Redeem, Revive, Revolt
by Stillmatic
Summary: Humans have vanished. Their cities are gone, and their empires have crumbled into oblivion. But a spark persists deep underground, ready to emerge to the surface again. Against all odds, the return of a lost species will spark a revolution like no other.
1. Chapter 1

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Prologue: The Story So Far**

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><p>Life is sporadic, it changes, mutates, and refuses discriminate against anything that has ever breathed. Life is the most basic form of virus that spreads like wildfire through whatever medium it can dig its greedy claws into. Earth was once such a medium for the epitome of life: the human race. Like the disease it was, humanity infected every corner of the globe, crawling across the Earth like an unstoppable pathogen, soon bringing the world to its knees through sheer willpower and ever-advancing technology which wreaked havoc on the ecosystem and lives of other creatures around them. Without realization of the effects of their actions, humans became the dominant species, ruling over all of their planet with an iron grip. There nothing above them other than their longing for the greater advancement of themselves; A rather selfish undertaking. Even in such a day and age, there were many who deviated from this path, instead turning to a much crueler standpoint. War had long been a creation that existed far before the humans, but despite being late in discovering such a thing, they embodied it and perfected it, ripping apart continents, leaving millions dead, but still managing to keep the world alive as a whole.<p>

War inspired the technologies that devastated the Earth, utterly wiping out battlefields and smearing lives off the face of the world. But such gruesome and gritty things as war gave way to differing advancements, and prosperity as well as a new understanding of the universe began to unravel itself to humanity. There was no limit to science, and it was pursued by these creatures since the very beginnings of their inception into the world. From fire to the wheel, progress was slow but steady. Life had given birth to a new species bent on dominance of the universe, even during such primitive times. However, that very same catalyst would become the very downfall of this great species, completely mitigating hope and slaughtering the foundations of civilizations and societies that had occupied their ancestral lands. Life, of course, had the ace up its sleeve; Such was to be expected, but it had been forgotten by the greedy and lustful humans.

The Congo, a veritable Eden for the spread of life, conceived the strings of DNA that would ensure the downfall of greatness, the collapse of ultimate dominance, and the vanishing act which would wipe mankind from the face of the Earth. It was unforeseen and decisively quick in escaping the confines of the country, becoming a deadly and invisible fugitive in mere days. Little by little, towns and villages were wiped out. Coverage of such events was nonexistent, and whole cultures fell quickly in the wake of this new competitor. When attention was directed at this virus, it was far too late. The spread had increased and without any warning, the disease mutated beyond all expectations. No more was it benign and waiting to strike. It had risen up from the bodies of the infected and horrifically deformed their bodies to the point of decomposition.

A fitting name was given to it by Western scientists due to its characteristics; labeled the Intensive Internal Decomposition Virus, this highly infectious pathogen would rot humans from the inside out, with the only early symptoms being stomach pains. During the last stages of infection, boils and chancres would emerge from the skin and explode outwards, covering any nearby surface and creature. Air, water and direct touch could spread the microorganism easily, leaving populations worldwide taking hits and slowly losing numbers. Despite all attempts at slowing or stopping this virus, it managed to efficiently kill the most secluded humans; even those supplied with biological containment equipment were no match for the bile-like substance that was signature to an infected individual. Governments across the globe were in a frenzy, each trying to contain the horrors of an unknown ailment.

The United Nations, a relic of the 20th Century, forced cooperation between as many first-world countries as possible. The Pathogenic Containment Committee, a large U.N. sponsored group consisting of the greatest minds in the medical field, was able to seize control and grip societies. Using resources from every willing nation, the PCC had facilities either created or renovated in order to accommodate the new research being done into the IIDV. With billions of dollars being poured into these facilities as a hopeful attempt to stop the virus, society crumbled without hesitation due to lack of support. Months had passed, further cleansing humanity from Earth and leaving shattered dreams lying about. Progress into developing a vaccine was increasingly slow as pressure skyrocketed.

Later, a certain characteristic would present itself as an indicator to immunity of the IIDV. The lighter the hue of an individual's eye color specified just how susceptible to infection a human was. Brown and hazel eyed persons were left without any hope, whether from their own genetics or the lack of development towards the vaccine. Some humans, however, were able to keep in constant contact with infected surfaces and people without as much as a single symptom. These light-eyed people carried the traits of either blue or green eyes, with green being the more resistant indicator. No other immunofactors presented themselves as scientists slowly lost the drive to continue their research. Many had left to spend their last moments with their families, only to find that some of them had already been used and left to rot by the IIDV. And so the end truly began.

Whole nations had fallen apart, leading to worldwide states of turmoil. By September 18th of 2013, every minor country incapable of shutting out the virus was left in ruins, with some having no population at all. Still, humanity had yet to given up its struggle to find a vaccine for the IIDV. In time, each facility around the globe had shut down and was left in the care of their respective artificial intelligences. Each underground compound boasted varying features, but the A.I.'s that ran them closed off their doors when their use had run out. Unbeknownst to the survivors at this point, humans still indeed resided in the facility, left frozen in time and unable to free themselves. The security system, utilizing special fields, meant to literally lock an area in space off from the rest of the universe, detained the immune humans who were the research subjects of these facilities. Over time, these underground complexes were completely forgotten as humanity faced yet another challenge.

A new strain of the IIDV emerged, this time affecting the fauna of Earth directly and mutating them wildly. Entire species died out while others prospered magnificently in the new world. The surviving order of scientists had dubbed this new strain the Advanced Evolutionary Cell Mutagen. The AECM was capable of radically changing the structure of regular creatures; from dogs to horses, nothing was left as it was before. These new and ever-changing creatures became incredibly violent towards humans specifically, ignoring anything else. Their targets however, would not die off so easily. True to their nature, the last bastion of humans persevered until the fateful day of February 16th, 2014. In only two years, humanity had been successfully destroyed by one single thing: Life.

Life had been the source of the suffering, and it had been the creator of the salve. As the last human fell to the forces of the mutants, nothing was left in their way from spreading across the globe and forming their own societies, albeit very primitive ones. Over the course of nearly three thousand and five hundred years, these new creatures dominated the land in the same way humanity had, but in a far less aggressive way. Nations and countries sprung from the tribes and groups, leading to diplomacy and leaders emerging. A new world had completely overridden what humanity had spent thousands of years creating leaving not a single surface remnant of the great species.

Of course, life had been just as tricky and unpredictable to this new world as it had been to the humans. Defying everything, the ancient underground compounds, facilities, and complexes had survived intact, with the immune humans still contained within. Humanity's dogmatic legacy had lived on, and held its spot for thousands of years in the shadows of the surface world. Over a mile underground, these world-wide areas remained unseen by any of the creatures, leaving them to be discovered to anyone willing to finally unveil the remnants of ancient civilizations. One pony in particular would ultimately begin the greatest uprising to have ever graced Earth, leaving it unsure of its current state and with an old, legendary challenger ready to steal back what it had lost.

However, not all would be easy for these last surviving humans and trouble would become a rampant problem. Still, from the deepest recesses of the Earth, the greatest species to have ever walked the planet would claim their land again. Two humans in specific, both green-eyed, had been cell mates until a fateful event that would alter the course of Earth's history. Bringing about a new age, their actions would become the stepping stones of the resurrection of an entire species. They would redeem themselves, revive their remaining brothers and sisters, and revolt against the system put in place by the occupiers of the land they willingly spilled their own blood on. Despite all that had demanded their existence to cease, they would press forward and restore a lost species' glory. A human revolution was, unknown to everyone, about to take place once again.

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><p>Well, I said me and Lucius were working on a new fic. Expect some good shit to arise, because this dynamic duo is going to completely obliterate the bar.<p>

As always, Stay Trilla.


	2. Chapter 2

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter One: Resurrection  
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><p>Canterlot was a city of biased, prejudiced, and overall snobby ponies. They flaunted their expensive clothing without much thought or care towards the less fortunate ponies who, occasionally seen at the train station or working menial jobs around the community, would suffer from bouts of shame and depression. Perhaps Canterlot, the city itself, was not so bad, but it was clearly the denizens of it that gave it a reputation of fortune and fame with underlying hints of bigotry. The buildings were marvels of engineering and the golden spires stood proudly in the sky, their rooftops reflecting the rays of a warm and endearing sun.<p>

There were many buildings and monuments in the city, but the one most commonly seen by the snobs and commoners was the Royal Library. It boasted a significant amount of literary works, and was seen as the hub of knowledge in Equestria. Being a rather impressive work of architecture, the library was often seen and nodded towards as a building that helped to spread the image of Canterlot's wealth and power. It was a tall building, not so much as to rival the spires, but still casting a large shadow over the surrounding area. One might relate the Royal Library to a colosseum and they would not be far off, for the library did indeed resemble such a thing, but it was far from being a replica.

It's circular form allowed for ponies to enter from several different entrances and for them to browse and read in relative silence and solitude. The strangely weather-resistant paint was a bright white and the many balconies, terraces, and occasional alcove were filigreed with golden detail. It was quite a sight for tourists and new citizens, attracting ponies from all corners of Equestria. A pony in particular, an outcast of sorts, stood in one of the many long lines that tried fruitlessly to push through the entrances of the library. A new section of books had been adapted into the library and the knowledgeable community was most eager to see the fresh literature. Pyrite Dreams, a self-made archeologist and overall adventurer, waited impatiently in line.

She had risen early from her slumber and had it in her mind that she would beat the morning crowds. Much to her dismay, they were already in place by the time she arrived, despite the sun having yet to rise. It was mid-afternoon now and the heat, crowding, and stench of sweat was making Pyrite both claustrophobic and annoyed: A volatile combination. She stomped her hooves and attempted to release the impatience that seemed to seep from her very core. Glancing into a nearby storefront, Pyrite looked over her appearance, smiling slightly as she realized that she looked as good as always.

She was a tannish pony, her coat darkening every year with her strenuous work. Her mane and tail were both black, but it was her mane that would catch a suitor's eye. It was midnight black, but a golden streak ran through it, cutting a swathe in the mediocrity of such darkness, and speckling the surrounded hairs with flecks of golden color; Horn peeking out of the gold and black mane. Her eyes were a strange blue, nearly a green of tropical seas on distant coasts. A carriage rolled past the store and Pyrite shook her head, coming back to reality. Looking down the line, she groaned openly as she realized that no progress had been made. Ponies, sweating and angry, stood all around her, making the tension palpable and tangible.

Pyrite wiped the sweat off her brow and sighed as her muscles flashed with aches once again, warning the pony that she had been standing for too long. She refused to leave, however, and decided that she would wait as long as was needed. Ponies occasionally trickled out from the line and were obvious evidence that spirits were beginning to break and boredom had set in. This was good news for the ponies who remained and they celebrated with quite snickers and relieved sighs. Pyrite smiled herself, but her lips quickly formed into a frown as she watched a pony she held in great contempt waltz past the waiting line.

Twilight Sparkle trotted by happily, her head held high in blissful arrogance as she passed Pyrite and the other ponies. Obviously the purple unicorn had been informed of the arrival of new books and being her usually joyful self, had used her privileges as Princess Celestia's star pupil to secure an entrance into the library which seemed to be chalk full of other self-proclaimed astronomers and researchers. Pyrite watched the unicorn quickly squeeze inside, ignoring the other frowns of pedestrians who dare not object to the royally protected pony.

Pyrite was not such a pony and she cursed quietly under her breath about such unfairness. And still the waiting continued. The sun passed overhead, looking down on the desolate ponies, eventually climbing behind the city and signaling that evening was now upon Canterlot. Ponies trickled away, heads hung low in acceptance that they would never gain entry. Pyrite remained as determined as she had been in the start and eagerly smiled as more and more ponies vanished into the evening crowds. The line began to shorten, pulling the intrepid archeologist closer and closer to her goal. Eyes glowing and heart racing, Pyrite reached the gated entryway and moved to push the last obstacle open, gaining her access to the literature she had so patiently waited for.

Fate, however, had other, much crueler plans. As Pyrite reached for the gate, she found herself blocked by the extended arm of a guard. He shook his head, indicating that Pyrite would not gain access this day. She pleaded at him with her blue eyes but to no avail, finding that the guard was as cold as the armor he wore. Turning away, Pyrite walked a short distance before glancing over her shoulder. What she saw nearly drove her to insanity and she fought the urge to scream in defiance of such things. Twilight Sparkle could be seen in the library, sitting happily at a table with piles of books around her.

As if sensing that she was being watched, Twilight turned to find Pyrite staring at her from a short distance away. She smiled happily and Pyrite's eye twitched angrily in response before turning and walking away.

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><p>"What do you mean?"<p>

Princess Celestia glanced down at Pyrite from her throne with a look of regality and refusal "I mean that you are both far from qualified and the dig site is in unknown territory. That's what I mean. "

Pyrite fought the tremors of anger that threatened to take control over her muscles. She met the princess with a steady eye "So, you mean to tell me that I have waited for over a year for an audience with you for permits I won't receive?"

Princess Celestia nodded as she scribbled across a sheet of parchment, quill held in a golden aura "Correct. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have real business to attend to."

The piece of parchment was handed back to Pyrite who took it with a sharp bite, nearly ripping through the piece of writing material. She shot the princess a hard look before promptly turning and exiting the audience chamber. Never before had Pyrite encountered such a level of disregard and ignorance for expanding science and it caused her to shake with rage, but the unicorn archeologist kept her composure and left the chamber, hooves clicking against marble floors. The sound echoed across the open area, but Pyrite ignored the noise and reached the doors which led into the room behind her.

The large oak doors swung shut behind her and Pyrite commenced kicking her legs out in anger. The piece of parchment slipped from her mouth and a series of quiet grunts and muffled curses slipped past her lips as she tired herself out. The past week had been full of disappointments but there was no doubt that this was the biggest and most enraging. Pyrite had waited for over a year to see Princess Celestia and to obtain documents which would allow her and a designated team to dig in a remote location of the Everfree forest, as a group of freelance surveyors had discovered that the area in question contained strange deformities in the topsoil and below, disrupting plant growth and proper formation of bedrock.

Pyrite stomped on the piece of parchment which described several procedures and undertakings that would be needed for the dig to commence. The actual content of the permit was unimportant. The thing that caught the unicorn's eye was the long scrawl of red ink across the page that read "DENIED". The simple word nearly caused Pyrite to scream out in anger and rage. She fought the lividness that rose up inside her and set her mind on another thought: If the princess wouldn't agree to the permit, Pyrite would just go without one.

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><p>Pyrite had been trekking for hours through the Everfree forest, following a medley of gut instinct and a series of sonar readings she paid a local Pegasus to take before her trip. It was far from easy at this point, but her mind was absolutely set on finding whatever it was that resided near the mountains. The readings displayed a peculiar type of formation unlike any she had ever seen before. While her sonar was different from a natural, water-based type, she was still able to gather evidence of some kind anomalous area near the base of the mountains.<p>

From a personal perspective, she didn't quite understand the dismissive nature the Princess used to just flat out reject her. Pyrite was fairly young and hadn't made the most groundbreaking discoveries as of yet, but her tenacity as an archeologist was unrivaled by any of her so-called "colleagues". Those old fools were adamant about forcing her to struggle and dismiss any claims she made. Weren't they the ones who should have been nurturing and funding such scientists? Especially one who's sole purpose in life was to explore and discover new things? She huffed loudly, but kept her steady pace to the site.

Her thoughts turned back to Twilight's downright ignorant smile. Her teeth began to grind slowly, her jaw beginning to ache from the pressure. Pyrite didn't care though and for now, all that stuck in her mind was that foolish nerd Twilight Sparkle. How she despised her to such an amazing degree, wishing some event would flip the tables. She sighed, realizing that such a thing wouldn't arise and her only route of fame and recognition was to continue her field work and research. It was tedious sometimes for her, whether her job consisted of soil samples or laying out grids, but it was all beginning to add up. Her observations were surely to be rewarded soon, this she knew.

Stopping for a moment, Pyrite wiped her brow with her hoof and levitated her canteen to her mouth, letting the crisp water collide with her parched throat. It was refreshing, especially when added to the fact that she'd been hiking for six hours. Despite being rejected by the Princess, Pyrite still continued with her research, no matter the consequences. She could just imagine it now; floats and a parade in her honor for discovering a lost civilization, with _both_ the Princesses personally congratulating her for her amazing commitment to the field of science. Pyrite blinked her eyes and laughed as she imagined the fame and wealth she would undoubtedly receive. It was beautiful.

The ground began to smooth out and the trees thinned, allowing small patches of clearing to be walked upon. Surely this place was as good as a campsite would get and Pyrite allowed herself to slip off the large pack that clung feverishly to her back, dampening her with sweat that could not escape due to the backpack covering her skin. The ground was a dying yellow grass, undoubtedly killed by the saline marshes nearby. The trees had also suffered from the high salt content and they had withered, rotting away like used husks. The canopy consisted of thick, dead branches covered by a layer of hair like moss which was a darkened red. Patches of sunlight burst through the available openings and Pyrite squinted as she looked up at such a nearby opening.

The smell of brine and peat was heavy here and the unicorn snorted as the pungent scent invaded her nostrils like a cockroach: Hard to kill and ever so persistent. Glancing around at the surrounding area, Pyrite allowed herself a moment to relax and sat back on the ground, a loud sigh of relief whispering over her lips. Her blue eyes were bleary and the weary archeologist took a moment to close them, scooting backwards until she rested against a tree which took her weight accordingly. The sonar indicated that her target location was several miles away, much too far for today. Pyrite nearly drifted off into the relaxing coma of sleep but the loud noise of a bird squawking jerked her from the edge of slumber's embrace.

She looked around and for the first time, Pyrite realized just how desolate the Everfree Forest was. There were no towns, there were no laws, there was just nature and that unto itself. The landscape had changed drastically over the thousands of years. Pockets of frozen sea water, trapped at the tops of small mountains, had thawed and formed into pools of salt water, kept safely in the crevices and bowls of the mountains. Erosion and nature's way of degrading things had brought the mountains slowly sown, shortening and shortening them even more.

Eventually, after thousands of years of erosion and degradation, the mountains had become nothing more than rocky hills, punctuated by the occasional tree which was, more often than not, dead or dying. The trapped salt water had spilled out like a tide and created huge lakes and rivers of salty brine. This in turn had killed off both the flora and fauna in this section of the Everfree Forest. Plants, not adapted to living in near submersion of salty water, had died in hours. The destruction continued onwards, however, and the deadly liquid seeped into the ground, destroying freshwater underground, and poisoning the trees.

The forest had withered and died, leaving only the marsh lands and what Pyrite saw now. There was no beauty here; even the dirt itself was coated in a white dust, signifying dried salt. The sun was a pale yellow and it scorched the ground harshly. This truly was desolation at it's finest. Pyrite had heard stories of prospectors and fortune seekers wandering into the salt marshes following a rumor of a hidden cathedral full of riches and power. As it turned out, the rumor was nothing more than hoax so that when the gullible adventurers finally died, a group of scavengers and undesirables would pick over their carcasses and pawn off whatever they could.

Still, the marshes invoked a sense of solitude and philosophical wonders, which, with enough time, would drive a pony insane, such was the working of nature. Pyrite shivered in the response to the fact that invisible insanity and corruption danced about her in glorious harmony, unseen by the naked eye and only comprehendible by a mind in complete disarray. Opening her bag with common telekineses, the lone archeologist set about establishing her temporary camp. She didn't have much a plan at all. This whole expedition was being fueled by persistence and brash thoughts.

Whether Pyrite found what she was looking for or not was irrelevant, the point was that she had gone out to look for herself: A feat capable only by a pony possessed of radical notions. Besides, IF the unicorn found the source of the strange readings and they turned out to be of some importance, she would be hailed as one of the great minds in the field of archeology. IF Pyrite found nothing, she would be able to sneak back home without so much as a whisper and nopony would be the wiser. It was a perfect plan despite the mosquitos and other insects that drove ponies to insanity.

Soon the small, collapsable tent was completed and Pyrite set about making a campfire, digging a small bowl in the ground so as to not burn the forest down, although this section of dead plants would be scarcely missed. Stones placed around the outskirts of the hastily, spade-dug hole, Pyrite tossed several dry sticks into the makeshift fire pit. Even the dirt looked off and worn out, faded and crumbling. The plentiful moss that hung about in collections and stuck to the trees like ginger beards, served as excellent kindling, and with a little dose of magic, a fire was roaring.

The sun fell dangerously fast in this part of the Everfree and the temperatures were bitterly cold, ferocious winds and whipping rains stinging even the most protected individuals. The sun had begun its lazy dip behind the once mountainous hills and the blackness that accompanied it was frightening to say the least. Thick clouds, formed by evaporating water, blocked out the stars which, even on the blackest nights, gave a little light to the ponies below who wandered so aimlessly. The night in the marshes was like nothing Pyrite had ever experienced before. It was a thick ink that poured from every nook and cranny, covering up anything and everything. Even the fire seemed offended that such a thing could affect its hearty, orange glow.

Pyrite shuddered and crawled closer to the warm flames, shielding herself from the night's dark tendrils. The fire flickered and danced as it's embers occasionally tumbled free of the ground's loose embrace. There was something wrong about such a place, something that suggested the untold memories of a forgotten past, and the sins of the dead. There was an aura of forgotten loathing. The ghosts of a destroyed empire walked amongst these trees and the howling of the wind acted as their spectral voices. It was a place ruled by the dead.

Warming her hooves against the fire, Pyrite jumped as one of life's greatest achievements came to life: Nocturnal creatures. The forest flew into action and the screams of tropical birds and the squeaking of insects became like a steady drumbeat of nature. It was the night's heartbeat and Pyrite smiled at the deafening beauty of such an occurrence. Animals skittered around and moths threw themselves like kamikaze fighters into the orange and blue-tipped flames, dying with the goal of finding light in their tiny minds. A pointless and foolish sacrifice, but yet it was so purposeful and driven that it sparked a tiny fleck of warmth inside Pyrite.

The food that Pyrite had brought with her was less than appetizing but it was enriched with protein and the minerals that would keep one going in such a harsh environment. The unicorn sighed in defeated acceptance as she pulled a can of processed and canned hay from the bag. It was a small, rounded tin with a pull tab on the top. Pyrite reluctantly peeled the thin metal lid away and groaned as the smell of persevered hay struck her nose. Carefully tipping the can, the unicorn allowed the liquid preservatives to leak out and splash onto the fire, creating a wide array of sickly chemical flames.

Pyrite absently forked back the soggy food back as she looked at her sonar layout. The last true set of mountains was several miles to the east and no doubt Pyrite would be on the move again, hunting for whatever lay behind the scalded and salt-covered surface. The anomaly was deep but surely there were areas where accessibility wouldn't be an issue. At least, Pyrite hoped so. It would be a dreadful waste to discover something worth mention, and not be able to reach it. A loud clap of thunder echoed overhead and the archeologist looked up, startled by the sudden arrival of thunder's rolling boom.

Lightning cracked like the devil's whip and Pyrite crawled inside her tent, dragging her bag along with her, but leaving the can of half eaten hay to rot in the rain which would no doubt be arriving soon. The tent, however, was snug and waterproof, protecting the adventurous unicorn from the rain's full brunt. The forest had gone quiet, bowing before the natural gods of the sky. Rain, their foot soldier, fell fast and soon it blanketed the entire marshland with a glistening coat of moisture. An afterthought came to Pyrite's mind and she set her canteen outside, lid unscrewed to catch the precious freshwater that poured from the heavens.

Zipping up the tent, Pyrite found the rain to be a rather strange pacifier as it thunked gently against the weatherproofed exterior of the tent. It was a strangely methodical drumming and it pulled Pyrite into a calmer state, relaxing the usually stress-filled archeologist. She yawned and sleep made its presence known as it slowly pushed down Pyrite's eyelids and relaxed her muscles like a professional masseur. Without quite realizing it, the unicorn fell fast asleep, and drifted into the world of wild imaginations and possibilities.

The fire outside fought steadily against the torrent of water, slowly backing down. Maybe it was a reflection of the humans and their resistance many, many years ago, which inevitably failed. The orange flames weaved and danced, curving and bending in response to the rain, but soon it was pushed down into the depths of the pit. Maybe it was a recollection of an ancient civilization, or maybe it was the future downfall of one. But deeper, past the ashes, lied an ember still alight, untouched yet by the rain.

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><p>Pyrite pried her eyes open slowly, finally managing to come back to reality from her dreams. She stood up and, much like a cat, stretched out with a yawn. Her lips smacked idly together and soon helped her recall the canteen she'd left last night. The unicorn unzipped the tent and levitated the canteen, closing it and storing it on her pack. Beginning to start her journey again, she exited the tent and began to repack it into her bag and upon completion of the task, began to make progress towards the East. She smacked her foreleg, crushing a pestering mosquito. Her face turned sour as she scraped the carcass onto her hoof, which she promptly wiped onto a dead tree trunk. Things would be just as annoying as they were yesterday, but she could practically smell the site from here, relishing in the idea of finding such an amazing discovery.<p>

After roughly another three hours of movement, Pyrite finally managed to find another clearing, this one completely disregarding the semi-established rule of desolation among the salt marshes. The lush undergrowth and canopies spread sporadically in a circular fashion from what appeared to be an epicenter somewhere within the grove. Her mind drifted around, contemplating how this area was not in the least bit affected from the deadly salt. The life here clung viciously, refusing to leave and claiming the land for itself like a rabid guard dog. The sheer beauty of the area was astounding, but she quickly reminded herself that this expedition was to find an archeological site, not flora.

With that settled, Pyrite continued deeper into the grove, coming up to a large, grassy knoll-like cliff. The face of the cliff was pointed towards her, but her years of experience in examining geographical formations and collecting soil told her something was significantly off about the smooth and unblemished face. She set her pack against a tree and trotted to the cliff and pressed her hoof against it, leaving an indentation. Coming to the conclusion that the substance was clay was easy, but the more nagging thought was how could the clay possibly have been left so untarnished? Clay didn't just form out of nowhere, and usually insects such as night-crawlers and worms would dig themselves in, leaving tiny holes as evidence. This cliff had no such indication, leaving her to wonder what exactly had happened here recently for there to be no life against the formation.

Pulling out her spade and flipping it open, Pyrite used the digging tool to claw against the surface with measured, careful swipes. The moist clay didn't resist against the assault and willingly came off with ease. She turned her head to check for any creatures, but quickly shot it back towards her spade when it clunked against some kind of object. Her heart began to race, despite her attempts to control herself by mentioning that said object could simply be a rock. Still, her giddiness was founded when clay began to literally fall off the face of the cliff and to the ground next to her. That same vital organ that had been so quick to jump stopped and skidded to a halt for a few moments before attempting to skip back to its original beat. Before her was undoubtedly an amazing discovery, simply beautiful and shining in the bright sunlight despite the dirty clay particles still stuck to its surface.

Pyrite Dreams, an archeologist unicorn from Canterlot, had uncovered the most spectacular object to have ever graced the Everfree's enormous and bulky area: a door! Yes, she had indeed found a door, and she reflected its gleam with a large grin herself. She jumped upwards and threw her right foreleg into the air, pumping her hoof and hooting in celebration. Her mind was racing to comprehend the reason a huge, circular and metallic door was lying in the middle of the Everfree Forest, but she simply ignored it in her utter joy. Finally, Pyrite Dreams would be a recognized and common household name that would be used for months, if not years to come! When the scientific community of Canterlot finally saw this, her finding, she would become famous! The Princesses would surely disregard _her_ disregard for their orders and most likely award her a medal instead. Everything, for that collection of happy moments, was perfect in the mind of the unicorn.

She sighed blissfully, completely at ease from her recent discovery. A warm feeling of accomplishment and success washed over her, letting her bask in the greatest moment in her career yet. This would surely establish her as one of the most famed minds in archeology, if not Canterlot or Equestria as a whole. A truly great day had set itself in her place and as she looked back at her brash and impulsive actions, Pyrite couldn't help a blush when thinking about how unknowingly childish she had been. Still, she was thankful for it, for that very same mood helped her in accomplishing the feat before her. It was her day and her time to shine, and she grinned in anticipation when she would see the faces of all those old geezers who hadn't given her a _real_ chance.

Taking a step back to look at the door now that she had settled, Pyrite examined the odd and intricate design of it. It wasn't like any door she had seen before, not even in Canterlot, and nothing about it would even give the idea that it was a door. Something, however, in the back of her head, told her that it was indeed a door. Her eyes widened brightly, for it was the door to success! Giggling, she pushed that thought aside and focused on the situation at hand with a tone of seriousness. The first problem that presented itself was whether she would try to get it open, or return to Canterlot to report her discovery. Her mind instantly presented the idea that it was completely possible for the guards to arrest her under orders of the Princesses if she didn't come back with conclusive evidence that would outweigh the crime she committed. Within a moment, it was decided and her mind was set; this unicorn would find a way through the door, collect samples of artifacts as well as use her research camera to take pictures as further proof. The bulky camera would need to be set on the tripod of course, but nothing would ruin her mood now that she was finally here, ready to break through and claim fame for herself.

With that, she set out to return to her pack, unload all of her items, and set up a temporary camp until she would be able to return with proper evidence. As she happily trotted to the tree that her pack lied against, one of hoofs caught an exposed root, pushing her forward and her face into the dirt. The spade she was levitating cut through the air and landed into the ground with a "think", a sound Pyrite ignored until she cleared the dirt from her face in annoyance. Her eyes widened at the prospect of another discovery, realizing what the sound could possibly be. Using her magic, she cleared the area of dirt to find a most peculiar and out-of-place sight. Directly under her was asphalt, the same she'd seen used for Manehattan streets, including the yellow, now faded tan, stripes. Giving a quizzical look around, Pyrite began wondering just what exactly it was that she discovered.

Unfortunately, her mind came up blank and insisted on her continuing her efforts. Now that there was a cleared area, she could simply set up her camp on the edge of the asphalt, allowing her to keep a fire near the forest and a tent on a hard surface. Things were looking better for the mare, and her innate pride began to swell in return. Without a second thought, she had set up her camp with ease and only in an hour's time.

Now that everything was properly sorted out, she set up her camera on the street-like surface and held it carefully, making absolutely sure not to damage the expensive piece of equipment. It was, after all, on loan from the Royal Canterlot University's College of Archeology. After snapping a few photos of the large door from different angles, Pyrite place the camera back into its case and stashed it inside of her tent. Satisfied with that as proof for now, she quickly began working on getting the door open. A quick glance at the sun told her it was roughly noon, and that she possibly only had somewhere between six to eight hours before she would need to relieve herself of work and settle down for the night. Getting back to business, she went over to the door and examined it.

After half an hour of searching, she couldn't for the life of her find out how to open this "door". There was no knob, no interface, and no such way that was visible to her present. Stepping back again to look at it, her eyes squinted in an attempt to get a better look. At times, Pyrite wished she had the wings of pegasus, only in order to get closer and allow her better movement for observation. A very faint crack made itself present to her straining eyes, one that ran all the way across the surface of the door horizontally. Facehoofing, Pyrite was left slightly embarrassed at her lack of consideration towards the fact that the very same door she spent time examining was possibly the type of door that retracted from the bottom and top of a frame. Using her magic, she attempted to open the door forcefully, casting aside all archeological protocols.

It was strenuous work, but progress was slowly being made in getting the door open. There was a horrifically disturbing screeching sound, most likely from rust, coming from the door, but her attempts still yielded results. With a final push, she lowered the bottom half of the door to the ground, where it settled into a crevice perfectly fit for it. Pyrite collapsed to the ground, heaving and breathing loudly from the exertion. Crawling back to her little camp, she opened another tin of canned hay and began to eat it. The taste was putrid, as was the smell, but she was far too concerned with her own hunger to really care. The fact she skipped breakfast in order to get a head start this morning was taking its toll on her, and now that one of the hardest steps was out of the way, she could finally relax.

After practically gulping down the damp hay, she guzzled down some water from her canteen and packed her supplies for her little sub-adventure into the depths of the site she uncovered. Pyrite's mind began to fly wildly, considering all of the amazing pieces of art or old technology or pottery that she would find. She shuddered happily and stood up, ready to take on another challenge. Tossing her pack over her shoulders and letting it rest on her back, she trotted briskly to the entrance and lit her horn, prepared to find and retrieve evidence that would mark her name down in the history books with some of the greatest of minds.

Her eyes darted around, taking in the simply astounding architecture of the hallway she entered. This place was no simple burial mound like she had expected, but appeared to in fact be some sort of underground building or facility. Of course, she hid that thought away for later, not yet ready to make any decisive conclusions based on her immediate thoughts of the area. The white walls seemed strangely immaculate, as did the spotless tiled floors. Not a single dust particle that wasn't originally there to begin with during its time had resided as an extra visitor, and this began to make Pyrite slightly nervous. Out of all the dig sites she had visited, none had ever been _this clean_. She immediately dropped that thought when she came upon what looked like a reception area.

The room before her spread out fantastically, each wall lined with countless chairs and tables, the middle sporting what she assumed must have been an information hub in ancient times where creatures quite possibly worked as receptionists. She gasped in glee and her smile cut across her face, beaming in the dark of the room. Trotting up to the hub, she looked around it for an entrance. What she found was thought-provoking at the time, giving her an idea of what exactly had lived here far before her arrival. A disconnected part of the surface top with no underneath to it was at least over four feet high, leaving her just enough room to go under it without any problems. Whatever resided here must have been fairly tall in order to require a barrier that height and her mind began to process different creatures tall enough for that. Coming to no conclusion, she began to look around the hub instead.

Different paper documents and contraptions littered the top surface of the hub, along with fairly large chairs on the floor. Little nooks and crannies kept common items such as staplers, stampers, folders. That last item intrigued her vastly. The idea that she could very well find a document of lost race or civilization was immensely excitement-inducing. Pyrite used her levitation to prop open a folder and began to examine the documents. A logo or seal marked the top left corner of the paper, but the rest was complete gibberish to her. This script was unintelligible, but lucky for her, she knew of a spell to allow understanding of different languages, non-verbally however. With a small flash of light and a spell later, Pyrite was greedily skimming through the document before her.

From what she could tell this place was a facility running under the name of "Catskill Research and Development Institute." So, this place was for science and research? She nearly swooned, completely fixated on examining what kinds of incredible technologies were contained within the depths and halls of the "Institute." Pyrite was getting far too giddy, but stashed three different folders for further reading later inside of her pack. She let out a sigh of happiness and continued on her way, but not before examining a bunch of odd machines. They were flat and wires ran down to a much larger bulk, which in turn ran different wires all over the place. Grabbing a small object with a wire attached to it and rolling it up, Pyrite departed the hub and continued down a hallway.

As she trotted, her eyes caught a mirror sheen being reflected back at her. She squinted to make it out, but all it seemed to be was another metal door, this one separating from the middle vertically. Never one to pass up a possible discovery, Pyrite used her magic to force the door open, revealing what seemed to be another room of sorts. Much to her surprise, it was actually an elevator, one far more advanced than even Canterlot's finest hotels had. She walked inside, but immediately regretted it. A painful screech resonated from above the elevator, piercing through her sensitive ears and forcing them downwards. Her attempt to leave was cut short when the elevator lurched downwards, just enough to stop her from leaving without climbing. Pyrite reached a hoof out to see if she could possibly leap out before her untimely demise, but a sickening snap and the whirring of a cable above her had already signed her contract to death.

Screaming at the top of lungs, Pyrite's mind raced at trying to find a way to prevent her death. She considered teleporting, but she knew of no nearby places and would most likely end up teleporting into the elevator shaft and falling to her death. Inspiration soon struck her and her fear died down slightly, now replaced with a grim doggedness that pushed her mind forward. A bubble shield spell would most definitely save her life, but leave her tired and stuck at the bottom of an elevator shaft that possibly went who knows how far down. Still, it was her best chance at surviving after all. Charging up her spell, Pyrite Dreams formed a bubble that protectively caressed her body, letting it ease up from the adrenaline spike. The last thing she heard as her vision faded was an explosion, followed by the loud crumpling of metal hitting concrete.

* * *

><p>"Elevator failure on Sector 2C, Prisoner Containment. A technician has been dispatched."<p>

The voice was synthetic and rather nerve-grinding. It repeated the message over and over again, the stern and emotionless voice reverberating down the strangely futuristic hallways and open rooms. The elevator was crooked and hung at an odd angle, tilted slightly as smoke danced with sparks that sputtered and jumped from a shattered control panel. The metal exterior was bent and Pyrite lay sprawled out on the floor of the elevator, body attempting to bring her back to consciousness. This proved to be a difficult feat and the unconscious explorer lay dormant for several more minutes before her eyelids lifted wearily. Fire was beginning to spread over the top of the elevator, courtesy of a severed electrical cord which no doubt ran the power to the transportation device, and smoke was beginning to rise up like a dark shadow.

Pyrite crawled forward and nursed her aching legs in the process. Although the last minute spell she had cast had saved her life, it had not been entirely effective against gravity's might and as such, she had landed hard on her legs. Nothing appeared to be broken and Pyrite pulled herself away from the burning wreckage which had previously been an elevator. Cold tile floor greeted her next as her body cleared the elevator entirely. She perked her ears up as the message was repeated over and over again from sets of hidden speakers which sent the set of selected words forth from their metallic lips. Pyrite regained her footing and stumbled forward, examining the long hallway which greeted her. The spell she had used to read the strangely archaic language was once again put into play and she scanned the lit signs which appeared to be built into certain areas of the ceiling.

They appeared to signify certain letters of the unknown alphabet, stating that "Prisoners A-E" could be found in the hallway which split off and went left. Pyrite stopped and glanced about, trying to decipher just which way to go. The tile floor clicked loudly as her hooves connected with it's impeccable surface. The signs continued much further down the hall but Pyrite stopped after several more seconds of walking, blue eyes scanning the sign above her. She turned off and went right, discovering a truly amazing sight. There were no doors here, per say, but rather walls of shimmering blue energy that blocked one from entering the containment cells. Pyrite nearly screamed in excitement. She had discovered long lost technology, the existence of a hidden civilization, and would no doubt become famous beyond belief.

She peered through the walls of energy, carefully leaning a hoof against one. It buzzed and she pulled her appendage back, frightened. Although the wall of crackling, pulsating energy didn't do much in the way of physical harm, the sound was frightening enough and Pyrite moved on. Plastic signs were attached to the walls next to each cell, describing a name or set of names. Every cell had been empty so far but as Pyrite continued forth, she pulled her head back in surprise, spying a skeleton collapsed upon one of the bunks within one of the confined spaces. It's hollow eye sockets stared lazily up at the ceiling and one of it's arms dangled over the side of the cot. Gray rags hung over it's dried and ancient bones, giving it the appearance that it had intelligence enough to wear some type of clothing.

Pyrite had discovered something that would forever change the field of archeology and Equestria as a whole, but even this discovery was not enough to quench the intrepid explorer's thirst for knowledge and she pressed on. The line of cells was beginning to come to an end and Pyrite paused to look over at yet another containment room labelled W. Fairbanks, and U. The last name of the second prisoner was missing, and judging by the cracked and disintegrating plastic, that wasn't surprising. Pyrite blinked in surprise as the fluorescent bulbs which glowed feverishly above her head flickered and dimmed slightly before returning to their unhealthy glow. She turned her attention to the actual cell at this point, glancing casually as she expected to find nothing more than a skeleton or an empty room. Her eyes widened with horror as they flickered over the space.

Two creatures stood frozen, entrapped in a beam a waving red light which effectively forced their movement to a standstill. One was tall and a pale white. His black hair was cut above his eyes and the occasional strand had slipped loose. Eyes glowing green, he was stuck in a violent embrace with his cellmate, a man of black skin and sinewy muscle. He had his hands wrapped around the ivory man's throat who, in turn, was doing the same to him, They were both clad in gray cloth which wrapped around their legs. A shirt of equal dreariness was adjourned upon their chests and they stood motionless, trapped by a strange bulb-like apparatus that was attached to the ceiling. The red light that shot from it encased the men and their bright green eyes were locked in a battle of minds. Pyrite felt sick, so very very sick. This was not a simply discovery, it was a resurrection.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

Ha-hah! Niggas don't know 'bout our fic, do ya? The plot is thickening like the ass of that one girl you see in the club that shakes that shit to the floor. Will it be just as amazingly sexy? You bet your goddamn soul it'll be. Now, our two human protagonists are shown here, and they will be getting a role shortly. But the real star here is Pyrite Dreams, archeologist extraordinaire. She'll play a big part, so expect to see her.

I'm just going to address a few things. First off, thank you all for the reviews and shit, it's much appreciated by both me and Lucius. I probably shouldn't be doing this, and it won't be included on the FIMFiction upload for obvious reasons, but I'll respond to a few reviews.

The Brony Reviewer - Second review, sorry to hear about that man. But Stasis will be getting updated soon, you know, when I actually manage to finish the clop scene. Won't be all happy sex and shit though, expect it to be a bit dark. During the actual scenes, there's going to be a bit of humor, so be prepared there as well. Also, it's nice to know you like Stasis so much, warms my arteries (second time using that joke and it's still shitty, who would have guessed?).

Anonymous Reviewer & hellgod666 - Honestly, I didn't even finish Portal 2. I've been too busy shooting SNORSKS and BOARS and BLOODSUCKERS with my broken Makarov and throwing rusty bolts at air formations!

Lucius Seneca - Who the fuck are you? Get out of here STALKER!

darkhero what must be done - Didn't realize you had something along these lines bro, sorry. But I seriously think our fic is going to be vastly different from yours. This is going to be one hell of a trip.

Anyway, that's it I guess. Next up is Lucius with his author notes. Be nice.

And as always, Stay Trilla.

* * *

><p><strong>Lucius Seneca<strong>

Thanks for the steezy intro, bru, Anyway, yeah, me and Stillmatic here are working on pumping out some legit work. Be patient n shit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Two: The Revolution Will Be Televised**

* * *

><p>When an instance occurs where great possibilities mix with indecisiveness, fear, and a touch of amazement, the mind freezes in place. It finds itself unable to operate for several seconds, sticking the body in place as if it were rooted to the ground permanently. Once the mind kicks back in, so does the body, bringing with it nervousness and a heart rate worthy of mention. This is exactly what happened to Pyrite as her eyes fixed themselves upon the two humans mere inches away, yet so unreachable. Never before had she experienced anything remotely close to what she was feeling now and it released unbridled fear and anxiety within her. These emotions soon gave way to supreme excitement and although she still found herself locked on the humans in front of her, a wide grin split across her tanned face. Surely this was the find of the ages.<p>

Pyrite licked her lips and glanced about, attempting to locate something that might aid her in freeing these pristine specimens. Surely they were dead, but the preservation of their bodies was phenomenal. They looked as if they would break free of their timeless imprisonment and continue their fruitless struggle. It may well have been considered a morbid fascination as Pyrite grew increasingly enraptured with the bodies, but such a thing hardly mattered as she located a panel sticking out from the wall at the end of the hallway. Surely this would prove useful in one way or another and the joyous archeologist dashed over, hooves bouncing off the floor with eccentric joy. Her blue eyes were wide with adrenaline and she let them travel over the protruding panel.

It was relatively thin, suggesting a lightweight design, but it was weighed down considerably by the electronics inside and the buttons outside. The vast array of choices was overwhelming and Pyrite fought the impatience that tumbled about inside her. Setting her pack aside, she let it slump against the wall beside her as she attempted to make sense of the array of controls presented in front of her. LED lights blinked and flickered, but the ones that caught the unicorn's true attention were a long line that ran down the side of the silver-gray panel. Each one had a small label stamped into the metal next to it signifying which cell was currently operating. Every light was dim, but for the one second from the end. The stamped metal was labelled the same as the plastic sign which was displayed ever so prominently next to the cell and Pyrite nodded in acknowledgment. She was mere seconds away from releasing two men who would forever change the face of Equestria.

Of course, this fact was unknown to Pyrite at the time and in her ignorance, she flipped the switch which was to the immediate right of the blinking red light. There was a loud hum and a sigh as the field of pulsating blue energy shut down and the encasement of red light vanished into nothingness. The two men collapsed to the ground in a sordid heap, limbs splaying out like limp pasta. Pyrite rushed over and examined the bodies with an excited set of eyes, this was turning out to be the most amazing day of her short life, and she relished in the joy that it brought. The adrenaline spike was rather pleasant as well. Pyrite pushed lightly against the body of the darker man, hoof connecting with his shoulder as she moved him slightly. There was no response from the well-muscled man and Pyrite turned to the pale cellmate who lay in a rather picturesque pose, slumped over the back of the dark-skinned man.

Pyrite began to jump about with inane glee as she thought about her quick rise to fame which was sure to be swift after the unveiling of this ancient civilization. This was a character flaw of Pyrite's and although she attempted to force down her lust for acceptance and fame, it quite literally, pushed her to adopt procedures and actions not normally seen in a pony, particularly an archeologist such as Pyrite. Her hopping soon ceased and she trotted over to her bag with a dignified pose, intending to grab it and further examine the bodies before leaving and returning to reveal her discovery to Equestria. She could feel the cheering and celebrating already. All was not as it seemed, however, and as Pyrite approached the cell again, field of view limited by her current angle, something struck her across the face, bringing Pyrite to her knees as her eyes watered and ears rang.

She scarcely had time to look up before a flat-soled shoe was driven into her face, stunning the unicorn and sending her tumbling backwards so that she was facing the ceiling. Pyrite's vision swam in accordance to the harsh treatment and her slow mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened. It was entirely possible that some security measure had come into effect and had struck the curious archeologist, but the truth was far more starling than Pyrite expected. As she lifted her head dazedly, her eyes widened in horror as she stared at the emotionless face of one of the cellmates, the pale one to be exact. The man he had been throttling earlier was rising to his knees, hand clasped at the vein which bulged uncomfortably at his temple, no doubt a sign of unhealthiness as both he and the ivory man both seemed to be suffering from physical discomfort.

The man who's black hair contrasted with his white face stared down calmly at Pyrite, a look of surprise upon his face "A unicorn? Westin, do you see what I see?"

He looked back at the shaded man who was rubbing at his bloodshot eyes with a weary hand, not fit to reply just yet. The ivory man had yet to smile and he raised an eyebrow at Pyrite "I wouldn't move if I was you."

He brought his foot down on the unicorn's face with force and lights flashed before her eyes, bright, dazzling colors like fireworks during a holiday. Blackness rolled over her like a tidal wave and Pyrite lapsed into unconsciousness, a look of surprise mixed with fear still present upon her complexion.

Westin, as he was called, stood up and shook his head of the throbbing pain. Blinking a few times, he stumbled in place uneasily before settling into his spot, his eyes losing and gaining focus wildly. Slapping himself lightly, the ebony man returned to normalcy and finally responded to his cellmate in the utmost form of respect.

"You've been popping microdots or what, nigga? Whatever the fuck you tak-" Westin looked at the unconscious unicorn in front of him, "-ing… lower the dosage for both us…"

Ulysses glanced between the unicorn and Westin "I'm not sure what to say at this point. But I don't believe narcotics are to blame."

Westin snorted in retaliation, "Says you nigga…" He blinked, "What…" A wicked grin presented itself on his face, "No energy wall means easy escape. Time to get some revenge on those bitch-ass eggheads and those cock-sucking security guards."

"Relax for a moment. Perhaps you have forgotten that a creature of myth, a unicorn, is lying in front of us. I think we should take some time to look about. Besides, if the guards haven't showed up yet, they probably won't."

Westin glared at the man near him before stepping outside of the cell. It was exactly as it was a few minutes ago, when the guards had left for some reason. He chuckled to himself, recalling how he tried to use the opportunity to break out of the cell. Of course, that cracker Ulysses insisted on sitting back and waiting. Waiting never produced results, at least, not on the streets. Still, Westin's constant pushing for assistance in the breakout went unheard, spiking his anger. Admittedly, it was his fault for starting the fistfight, but he wouldn't admit it just yet. The empty halls were far too eerie for this man, who opted to return to the cell to inspect the ludicrously out of place creature.

Westin tapped the unicorn's head with his shoe, "What is this shit? A horse?"

Ulysses shrugged broadly and leaned against the wall of the cell "A unicorn to be exact. Besides, it far too small to be a horse." His green eyes flickered over the collapsed Pyrite "Although, unicorns are myths, parts of fairy tales."

Westin bent down and pressed his finger to the tip of the horn, to which the body twitched before settling again, "Think we can play darts with it? Or throw it at a guard?"

Letting out one of his rare laughs, Ulysses smiled quietly "I should think not. I would suggest our immediate departure, but what about this?" He pointed at Pyrite "I think it would be rather valuable to have, don't you?"

Westin shrugged dismissively and lifted the unicorn from under its forelegs.

Shaking it, he made faces at the unicorn, "Coochie-coo, bitch! Shit, this thing is kin'a cute."

He lifted it onto his shoulders and kept it there, much like one would with the pelt of a fox or other animal.

"Can't be very heavy. Or maybe it's all the steroids you've taken over the years. In any event, don't get too attached to it. Shall we go, my friend?"

Westin, more amused by the comment than insulted, gave a bark of laughter, "Hah! All of this," he flexed his right arm to allow the muscles to bulge, "was made when I was locked up. I know your jealous an' shit about it, but please man, don't get hard over this shit. I punched a nigga for that once."

Moving forward, Ulysses stepped past Westin with an air of indifference "Think what you will, Westin. We can discuss this later. What matters now is leaving and arming ourselves."

Westin rolled his eyes and plucked the dreary clothing to look at it, "This shit... I swear, how they convinced me to wear this slave-ass-looking crap is a mystery. Need some new threads, kicks, and a choppa."

"I agree with you on that respective. This clothing is less than adequate. Surely they kept our belongings nearby. Although, I have no idea as to where to start looking."

"Are you fucking serious? You don't remember when they jacked our shit? I mean damn, that was the kind of shit they do in prison; grab your stuff and box it. Wherever the hell is that prisoner admittance is our shit, _and _the shit of other niggas," he stated with a grin.

Ulysses bit his tongue in anger "They had me drugged when I was brought in, Westin. I had thought you would remember that detail about my arrival. However, seeing as you are somewhat experienced with the process of admittance, maybe you should lead the way.

Westin's grin sat plastered on his face, "Nigga, I'll lead the way like Moses led the Jews through the Red Sea. Keep up, ight? We gotta dip on out of here before the guards notice us an' shit."

Waving his hand towards the open hallway, Ulysses nodded "After you then."

The two accomplices made haste out of the cell and hooked a left, away from the dead end with the control panel. After roughly a few seconds of walking briskly, Westin stopped at the smell of smoke from his right. His nostrils enlarged and retracted with each powerful sniff, taking in the smell of barbecuing metal and wires. His head turned to the right to see an elevator shaft with the doors exploded outwards and the elevator itself in ruin. The man looked at the pony with slight admiration for just a moment.

"Damn, she knows how to wreck shit."

Ulysses tilted his head curiously "Indeed. Quite the damage."

They less-than-dynamic duo and their unicorn captive continued down the hall, jogging lightly and ready at any moment to run from security. The oddity was that there was no security, or any indication of life at all for that matter. As they passed cells, skeletons greeted them with bleached smiles and friendly dispositions. Or, at least as friendly as the bodily remains of creatures over three thousand years old could be. The group finally arrived at their destination after turning another corner and a short walk: the Catskill Research and Development Institute's Prisoner Admissions Booth.

True to Ulysses' words, Westin felt a slight nostalgia to it, but ignored the memories as much as possible. Now was not the time to think of incarceration when escape was so close. After bashing open the door with a frontal kick, the two and the unicorn entered, where said unicorn was promptly put onto a cot.

Westin began sifting through a drawer, "Bullshit. Shit. Double Bullshit. More shit. Got it." He dangled a few keys linked together.

Ulysses absently picked at a loose thread that dangled ever so precariously from his sleeve. Glancing up at the confirmation of a successful retrieval, Ulysses spoke "Let's get our possessions together. I have a feeling you don't wish to spend a second longer with me than is necessary."

With that settled, both made their way to the back, where large containment units lined the walls. Westin, spying the unit with his last name stickered onto it, unlocked the container and tossed the keys to Ulysses.

"Here, I don't even know your last name, so you figure that shit out."

Ulysses caught the keys without looking, looking strangely at the hand which had acted on automatic. Shaking off the feeling of puppetry, Ulysses searched the units for his name, eyes dancing from label to label until they settled on his name. He read it aloud "Ulysses T. Beck."

Westin looked over the clothing he had worn before his forced admittance into the facility. A pair of relatively baggy blue jeans (with a belt very lightly tightened, more so meant to be used in a fight), a pair of immaculately white Nike Air Force 1's, a light red T-shirt, and the best part, a white Chicago Bulls Jersey. Labeled "JORDAN" and "23" on the back, it was one of his favorite articles of clothing. Digging through the box again, Westin pulled out a necklace with a cross attached to it and slipped the gold over his neck. Changing back into his old clothes quickly, Westin looked back at his cellmate to find him already dressed. Memory struck Westin, and he immediately grabbed his Bulls cap and placed it atop his head, where it was destined to be.

He smirked, "I'm bad, I'm back, I'm mad, and I'm about to get strapped."

Ulysses nodded although the phrase escaped him. He, himself, was clad in more refined clothing. A black turtle neck wrapped tightly around his abdomen and a pair of bootcut jeans decorated his legs. Fixing a silver watch upon his left wrist, Ulysses tapped his shoes absently on the floor. He had grown accustomed to the grey, flat-soled ones that had been supplied and as such, his old footwear felt alien despite the almost identical design, albeit a different array of colors, brown with black laces to be specific. Ulysses' slightly hollow cheeks and sharp angles of his facial curves gave him the look of an ascetic man, which, when examined carefully, was a rather delicate appearance.

He raised an eyebrow at Westin "I suppose we should be moving on."

Westin grunted in response, not fully caring at what his cellmate said. It wasn't because of any negative reason, only due to the fact that it was obvious that they needed to be moving as fast as possible in order to escape. He in no way felt safe, especially in a huge complex that was literally crawling with government workers. He shuddered lightly and stepped over to the front end of the room, where the Plexiglas window connected to a security type table. After flinging useless documents around and skimming here and there, Westin found the map of the facility.

It was beyond confusing due to the sheer amount of area and floors that were covered, but he eventually located himself, Ulysses and the unicorn. They weren't all that far from this floor's armory. The idea that the designers stuck an armory anywhere near containment cells seemed a bit fishy, mostly because it was just a horrible idea in just about every sense. Satisfied with his thoughts, Westin folded the map up and tucked it into his back pocket, where it was nestled nicely between his pants and wallet.

Westin turned to his impromptu escape buddy, "Down the hall, take a right and we're there."

Ulysses breathed out a quiet sigh and pulled Pyrite over his shoulders, mimicking how Westin had carried her only minutes earlier. He paused for a moment as his brain finally absorbed the influx of recent information. There was a certain element of strangeness to the entire situation. Ulysses' memory had been roughly halved by the thousands of years in the freezing-like security measure. Of course, he had no idea that both he and Westin had been contained and frozen in time like statues for an eye-widening amount of time. Ulysses' mind turned back to that of the unicorn hung over his shoulders like a carcass.

She was fairly light, but not so much that her weight could not be felt for her body's mass was evidently present and pushed down on the tall man's shoulders. Westin exited the room and Ulysses followed as one of Pyrite's arms swung lazily about in her unconscious state. There was an aura of abandonment within the facility. Whether it be the lack of noise, flickering lights, or the sound of shoes rubbing against the floor, there was undoubtedly an uneasiness to the facility. Ulysses shook his head slightly as his mind turned to that of his cellmate who marched ahead, only a few feet away. It was as if Ulysses could feel the anxiousness that Westin was currently undergoing, but the pale man dismissed it as nothing more than a case of the jitters.

The group had finally arrived at the armory after several minutes. The desolate halls claimed the echoes of footsteps, and one large crashing sound that had been tied to an interaction between Westin's shoe and the door. He secretly wondered why an armory door of all things wasn't locked, but he didn't bother going too in depth at it. In fact, the entire situation was far from normal, or at least what normal should have been. There were no guards, and the only proof of others had been skeletons. Surely that meant something was afoot, and the internal thinker inside of Westin began cramming together different ideas to see what fit. It could have been possible that the other prisoners were executed by the guards in order to cover up evidence, but didn't have the time to finish off the two who were currently walking into the armory. He stopped thinking and instead focused on the matter at hand: getting armed and dangerous.

Westin went to a wall rack and ripped off the nearest weapon he could find. It happened to be an MP7, a weapon he didn't quite recognize, so he simply tossed it over his shoulder. Of course, with his odd luck, the gun went off and hit a chair, forcing it to spin wildly before smashing against the floor. He found that to be incredibly stupid, yet oddly funny. With that, he grabbed what he recognized as a Beretta and placed it between his belt and pants. A few magazines and a kevlar vest also somehow managed to make their way onto his person.

The sound of groaning forced him to turn around. Both he and Ulysses were looking at the unicorn, who was coming back to reality. Westin, a playful scamp at heart (occasionally), went up to the unicorn as it woke up.

Its eyes fluttered open lazily, only to see a large black man grinning at her, "Ey yo Boo, what it do?"

Pyrite jumped and screamed, absolutely destroying her usually tomboyish demeanor and forcing the men to cover their ears as the high pitched shrieked assaulted their eardrums with precision and ease. Ulysses shut his eyes in pain and easily brought his foot against the unicorn's throat, turning her screaming into sputtering and choking. His eyes had developed a coldness and he watched as Pyrite scrabbled against the cold floor and gasped for air.

Ulysses kept his foot in place, lessening the pressure only slightly "Stop your shrieking. Now."

The final word was uttered with an undertone of intense and cold violence. The dead stare of the green irises only added another level of fear to the man and he slowly released his foot from Pyrite's exposed throat. She slumped back down to the floor as air travelled down her windpipe once again. This relief was to be short lived, however, and a fit of extreme coughing overtook Pyrite. It was a dry, rough, and overall painful cough that only accompanied forceful choking. Ulysses nodded at Westin who pulled his Beretta from it's resting place and aimed it at the coughing archeologist. Ulysses had not explicitly ordered Westin to do so, but the meaning was easily understood, and Westin did so without his usual street lingo and cussing.

Ulysses turned his back on Pyrite and his African American accomplice as he searched for a suitable firearm. Ulysses was, in fact, a man of fine tastes, even when it came to the machines designed to kill. He had once been a serial killer of epic proportions. The charges had been piled high against Ulysses and more often than not, he was referred to as a monster. Hands drifting playfully over the shelves and wall racks, Ulysses pulled an eye-catching weapon from it's resting place. The firearm in question was a submachine gun, black with a extendable stock and a foldable front grip. Ulysses let the weight of the well oiled weapon absorb into his hands and he hefted it, finding it fairly light.

Unknown to Ulysses at the time, the weapon was an MP7A1: A submachine gun designed for personal use. It was fairly short but still managed to produce a fair amount of respect despite it's size. Sliding a magazine into it, Ulysses spied several backpacks laying on the bottom of a shelving unit at the back of the room. With a few quick steps, it was in his hands and Ulysses grabbed magazine after magazine for his new weapon, letting them fall haphazardly into the depths of the black bag. The backpack in question was designed so that a single strap went over the shoulders of the wearer and around his chest, leaving the slightly teardrop-shaped bag at a small angle as it rested tightly against the wearer's back. The compact submachine gun slid into the backpack as Ulysses zipped it shut.

Ulysses wasn't done quite yet and he could hear Pyrite's fit of coughing begin to reside. This was of little importance to the focused man as he continued his scouting, recovering a USP .45 pistol for a sidearm along with the appropriate ammunition and magazines for both of his stolen firearms. The stealing wasn't quite over yet and Ulysses pulled on a kevlar vest which fit tightly against his chest, blending in with his turtle neck and backpack. Westin was beginning to get annoyed at his partner's pickiness and mumbled things over his shoulder such as "Hurry your ass up, nigga" and other such profanities.

The urging didn't stop Ulysses in his organized looting and he located the final item. A thin, rectangular cardboard box, only about the length of Ulysses' hand was seized and he took the mystery object out. A black silencer slid out and after reading the threading details, Ulysses screwed it onto his pistol. Shoving it between his jeans and the small of his back, Ulysses moved towards Pyrite as he adjusted the backpack over his newly fitted vest. Pyrite stared up in fearful wonderment at the two men, both of which were an alien species to her.

Westin gave out a deep laugh, "Is that a silencer in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"

Such a thing seemed impossible and Pyrite insisted that these creatures could not be real, merely a figment of imagination, but when she cursed at them, believing she was in a nightmare of sorts, Ulysses brought the back of his hand against her cheek. The pain was in every way, shape, and form, real. The usually brash explorer was now reduced to a whimpering mess and her blue eyes danced between Ulysses and Westin, who stared at her with a lopsided grin.

Kneeling down, Ulysses brought out his pistol and let it dangle limply from his right hand as he looked at her "So you can speak? I expect better manners from this point onwards."

Pyrite shook her head in denial, not believing that such a thing could be happening to her. Ulysses seized her cheeks in a tight grip and stared coldly at her "What're you doing down here? Where are the guards?" When Pyrite refused to choke out a reply, Ulysses pistol whipped her roughly, gun slamming into the side of her face. She cried out but Ulysses grabbed her mane and pulled her back as she began to fall.

Westin was becoming far too tired of this unicorn's lack of speech, and lost the entirety of his normal, unserious demeanor. Rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, he began to contemplate the situation once again.

Standing before him was supposedly a unicorn. Standing next to him was a murderer. In their hands were guns, directed at a horse. There were no guards, the armory was unlocked, and skeletons littered the other cells. It was all very odd, but the worst possible part was the fact that Westin hadn't eaten in quite some time. He cursed himself as the thought reminded his stomach, forcing it to erupt into different grunts and snarls itself. Pulling the fingers away from his face, he knelt down to the level of the unicorn, slight smile on his face (which was actually a reaction to his hunger preparing him to eat whatever actual food presented itself to them).

"Ight, listen Shorty, I'm real fuckin' hungry, so start talkin'. I sure as hell don't mind eatin' your small ass, so unless you want this shit to turn ugly, you better do what's best for all of us." He turned to Ulysses, "Got something to say?"

Ulysses lack of emotion was startling to say the least "I wouldn't mind a steak."

The unicorn slid back and against a wall, fear glued to her face, "Pl-Please! Stop!"

Westin nearly leaped back, "THE FUCK? She can actually talk! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! I didn't actually think that this bitch could talk!"

"Relax your nerves, Westin. Maybe a display of our power will put you back in your usually strong persona."

Ulysses fired his weapon into the ceiling, scaring the wits out of Pyrite, who nearly shrieked again, but held her tongue when she remembered what happened last time. She cowered against the wall, her eyes showing a mix of fear and fascination. With the torture she received in mind, she slowly started to answer the questions.

Westin holstered the Beretta on his belt, assuming that he wouldn't even need it to deal with the small horse, "Ight, ight… Who da fuck are you?"

Pyrite swallowed through her parched throat, "P-P-Pyr-"

"Who? Speak up."

"Pyrite Dreams!" The unicorn practically screamed out.

Ulysses laughed. It was the first time Westin had heard such a sound and it surprised him slightly. Turning his attention back to Pyrite, Ulysses spoke with dark humor "Fools gold. A strange name to be sure."

Westin shrugged, "Never heard a nigga named something like that before."

"Mind your language, Westin. Now, Pyrite is it? I would very much like to hear your story regarding just how you came to be here." Ulysses ran a hand across his jawline, watching the unicorn's response.

"I-I fell down the elevator shaft," she said while her eyes darted back and forth between the humans.

Westin smirked, "See, I told you it was her that did that shit." He turned back to Pyrite, "Ey, what are you? A horse or some shit?"

Pyrite's fear melted away as a more prideful voice came out along with a scoff, "_A horse_?" She sat up and glared at Westin, who only chuckled, "I'm a _pony_! A unicorn, actually," she stated matter-of-factly.

Both Ulysses and Westin traded looks for a moment, letting the information seep in. A sentient pony of all things was getting an attitude towards them. It was obviously not a threat, mostly because it was just an animal. Westin lifted the chair he had accidentally shot earlier and sat in it, letting the bullet-hole rub against his back.

Ulysses glanced at the hungry Westin, feeling his own need for protein and nutrients. He looked back at Pyrite "Watch your tone. Now, I don't see any need to kill you, but give us any more trouble and I'll make sure you'll die with tears in your eyes."

Westin threw his hands into the air, "OKAY! Fuck it! I'm dippin'. Peace, bitches."

The twenty-something year old got up from the chair and looted a few choice things before departure. He grabbed a backpack similar to Ulysses' and stuffed items into it, specifically: a stun-rod, a couple batteries, a MP7 (which he disliked), some ammo magazines, and a flashlight.

Ulysses sighed. He had become used to Westin's brashness and irrationality during their imprisonment and as the muscular man went to step past him, Ulysses put a hand against his chest "Stay a moment. You could leave right now and risk running into security without backup or we could stick together, escape, and go our separate ways."

The face on Westin turned sour almost instantly, "Nigga, get your filthy cracker hand off of me before I bite that shit off and feed it to your ass crack."

Narrowing his eyes, Ulysses let his hand drop from Westin's chest "Fine. Leave if you want. Just know that there won't be help for you when bullets start burrowing into your stubborn skull."

Westin chuckled, "I've had a bullet ricochet off my head before. I'm bulletproof." He crossed his arms and motioned his head to Pyrite, "Well?"

Ulysses nodded sarcastically "Yes, just like Teflon I bet." He pointed down at Pyrite "On your feet now. You're coming with us whether you like it or not." When Pyrite hesitated Ulysses took a menacing step forward and she jumped up, face still smarting from the numerous hits she had received.

Pyrite reluctantly got onto her hooves, her face throbbing from the abuse. She sighed at her current situation with a deep sense of regret. The archeologist had been captured by two ancient creatures, one loud-mouthed and obnoxious, the other creepy and abusive. She'd had better days by far.

Her attention was placed back to Westin, who was snapping his fingers at her.

"Hey, I'm not gonna wait forever for you. If security finds you, you'll be worse off than us. So hurry your ass up, NOW."

Ulysses stepped outside and was quickly followed by his companions: One old, one new. His pistol reappeared in his hand and Ulysses casually glanced down the hallway before glancing back at Pyrite who looked around nervously, shuffling like a child caught stealing sweets. Westin stepped past Ulysses, reinforcing the very image of impatience.

The pale man kept his usually emotionless visage in place and he spoke with a quiet voice, perhaps afraid of being overheard by nearby security "Seeing as this is a joint effort, where should we go? I'm sure there's a location we can all agree on besides the exit. My stomach is rather in need of food."

Westin nodded, "Let's get some grub." He pulled out the map he took and examined it for a moment, "Cafeteria and kitchen is the next right, down to the second left, and past the bathrooms. Let's hurry, I need some food."

The group made their way through the vacant hallways, passing different rooms of all sorts. Eventually, they reached the only room that they could honestly care about: the kitchen. Ulysses pushed open the door, letting the three in. Westin immediately began to ransack any pantries he could find.

He began to toss any unwanted items over his shoulder, not caring if they struck anyone, "Shit. Shit. More shit. Bad shit. Decent shit. Not-good-enough shit... All shi- Whoa, hello!" He pulled out a large box of instant noodle cups, "Legit. That's the first course; let's find some other shit..."

Ulysses sighed with defeat. He had never liked such food, but as his stomach rumbled and grunted, it was clear he would need any type of protein at this point, and so he aided Westin in raiding the kitchen, tossing several bottles of distilled water onto a nearby table where food was beginning to pile up. There wasn't much in the way of fine dining, but Ulysses accepted this fact and began to boil water as Westin discovered more and more instant noodles.

Pyrite was beginning to back away and towards the door, assuming that the humans were far too busy in their hunt for food to notice. This was not the case, however, and as she neared the exit, both of her captors perked up and looked back in synchronization. She smiled tightly and pretended to examine her hooves, but it was clear she had been caught in the act and she dropped her head, going to the table which Ulysses pointed at with sternness. She positioned herself in a chair, attempting figure out how to sit properly. This display of struggling went unnoticed by the humans as the kettle began to whistle, grabbing their attention. Westin rushed past Ulysses and grabbed the kettle, nearly spilling the hot liquid on the white man who leapt backwards and muttered under his breath.

Westin laughed to himself as he poured water into three noodle cups, "Hah! I'm so fuckin' hungry that I'm happy as shit with excitement!"

He pulled a drawer out and grabbed three forks, setting them beside each cup. Westin pushed the respective cups to his supposed companions and began to dig into his own.

He opened his mouth, letting steam come out along with pained gasps, "Oohohoh! This shit is so good!"

Breathing out quietly, Ulysses watched his companions eat their respective meals. He too absently twirled the noodles over his fork and slowly ate, watching Pyrite all the while. She was looking reluctantly at the food in front of her when the fork, which had been supplied to her, began to glow. Ulysses swallowed slowly and watched with amazement as the fork slowly lifted up and dipped back into the cup. He looked over at Westin who had yet to notice the occurrence.

Westin's eyes went up to look at Ulysses, at which point he followed his eyes while continuing to eat. His jaw fell, letting hot noodles to fall absently back into the cup. Realization hit him, as he sputtered out the excess food, burning his lips and chin.

He turned back to Ulysses with a face mixed with amazement and seriousness, "She's a wizard!"

Wiping a stray noodle from his cheek, Ulysses fought the lecture he wished to berate Westin with. He instead turned his attention to Pyrite who seemed shocked at the sudden burst of confusion and hot noodle broth.

Ulysses spoke with a curious tone "Well, that is surely not something I have seen before. I really must say that you've perked my interest." Ulysses pointed at the floating fork "Do tell me just how you are doing that."

Westin cut off Pyrite before she was able to speak, "You see nigga, what happens is this: she's currently using her mental ability to focus psychic energy through the dick on her head. That energy is affecting reality and lifting the spoon at her will an' shit, ya' know wha' I mean? Some tricky physics bullshit, mos' def'."

"Obviously your decisive logic and impeccable reasoning brought you to that flawless conclusion."

Westin tapped the side of his head, "Book and street smart, ya' heard?"

Ulysses quirked his lips in a genuinely amused smile "How could I have missed it?"

"I'm like a ninja with that shit. All Wu-Tang Clan and Chambers all up in this mothafucka."

Nodding in reply, Ulysses turned his attention to Pyrite who was watching the two criminals speak, for the first time, like friends. Ulysses raised an eyebrow at her "So explain please."

Pyrite kicked her legs at her seat, "Well... it's magic."

Westin looked at Ulysses, then Pyrite, then back to Ulysses. He broke out into laughter and slammed his fist onto the table repeatedly, scaring Pyrite. Her mood turned defensive almost immediately after, ready to rebuke any ignorance these two creatures presented.

She crossed her forelegs, "It is magic! And it isn't funny! It takes years to actually be able to use magic like the kind I'm doing!"

"Girl, magic ain't real! The fuck you smokin'? I-... You got any left?" She glared at him, "No..?"

"Magic is real! How am I doing this then?" Pyrite lifted up various kitchen items in the air, "See? Magic in unicorns comes from the horn, and we can use it to do spells like levitation, translation and other things." She stayed silent for a moment and then cocked her head to the side, "Can you things use magic?"

Ulysses nearly fell out of his seat with laughter. Westin joined him in the humor and they clutched at their stomachs in delightful pain. Never before had they heard something as ridiculous as the argument presented before them. Westin grabbed at the side of the table, tears streaking down his face as Ulysses strode around in a hunched over position, falling down several times as he became consumed with another fit of hysteria.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Ulysses regained his usual composure before speaking "Magic! What a comedy act. 'Magic' is a mix of illusions and refined sleight of hand. Now, I may not be able to figure out just how you're lifting those objects, but Im quite sure that it's nothing more than a trick. Would you agree, Westin?"

Westin stuffed some noodles in his mouth, skewing his speech, "Allh ah bunth of thmoke an' merrors an' Davith Blane bullthit." He swallowed, "Got some Illuminati, Satanic, witch-doctor, Haiti Voodoo stuff rollin' through here."

Ulysses pointed approvingly at Westin, looking at Pyrite instead "This man speaks the truth." Finger now pointed at Pyrite, Ulysses' tone became accusing "You are nothing more than a cheat and illusionist."

Pyrite was teeming with anger at their words. How could they possibly be so ignorant to magic? For Celestia's sake, she was doing it right in front of them! If they wanted proof, then they'd get it.

Westin began to feel an odd sensation on his head. It wasn't uncomfortable, but more so a tingling feeling, as if hundreds of tiny little hands were rubbing down and massaging it. He looked at Pyrite, whose horn was glowing a faint amber. A low snarl emanated from Westin while the right side of his lips curled upwards.

Before he had a chance to throttle Pyrite's neck, something erupted from the top of his head. He blinked, feeling something push his cap off and onto the table. He turned his head and looked into the side of another table's mirror-like side. Westin let out a sharp gasp, completely fixated on his head. Before him was himself, only he had a thick afro sprouting from the top of his head. Patting it to make sure it was real, he stuck his hand against it and felt the coarseness. It was magnificent, for lack of a better word.

He turned his head to Pyrite again, "Ight, I believe you. It HAS to be magic if it made me more flier than I already was."

Pyrite nodded in satisfaction, "All in a day's work."

Ulysses clapped in appreciation "Well, I too have been swayed. Such a refined hairstyle appearing out of the blue, well, magic is the only explanation."

Pyrite nodded for the second time, her head bobbing at Ulysses as he stood up and grabbed some of the nearby bottles of water, shoving them into his pack. His companions followed suit, or at least Westin did. He grabbed several other dehydrated foodstuffs and the remaining water bottles as Pyrite sat by and watched idly. There was an air of acceptance around the humans and as they finished with the second round of their looting, Pyrite noticed something rather odd. Although it was rather hidden, the two men moved in incredibly similar ways. They walked with matched strides and movements, almost mimicking each other. It was obviously not a purposeful thing, and Pyrite wondered at the pair of oddities presented before her. Truly this was the strangest thing of her life.

Pyrite dropped the thoughts as Westin nudged her, "Come on, we're hoppin' on outta here."

She nodded and jumped off of the chair, landing with a few clicks from her hooves hitting the tile floor. The unicorn levitated her pack onto her back once again. Ulysses slid a few bottles of water and some vegetarian cups towards her, which she gladly took for later.

Westin pushed open the door, "Fastest way to the service elevator is through some lab." He squinted to make out the name on the map, "Psionic-Energy Field Research Laboratory... Huh. Some crazy soundin' shit goin' on there."

Ulysses opened the door and his comrades passed by him, allowing Ulysses to close the door quietly. He looked over at Westin who pointed down the hall opposite the doors and then left. Ulysses nodded and they set out. The mix of footsteps and the trotting of hooves made him uneasy for whatever reason. The group had still not uncovered the reason for the apparently abandoned facility and it was as if any number of horrors would pop out of their darkened hiding places. Nearly leaning back to lecture Pyrite on the noise she was currently producing, Ulysses stopped himself, remembering that she couldn't help such a thing. He glanced into the nearby windows of passing rooms, discovering an office or two, punctuated by a dusty computer and desk, skeleton sitting relaxedly in his chair. There was an eeriness to the entire facility, but Ulysses put it out of mind as the trio turned right and stared at their intended destination. The doors of the lab had been blown clean off, charred and melted in spots. The entire hallway had suffered, burn marks and stains decorating the walls.

Westin pulled out his Beretta, "Best be getting ready, who knows what we might run into."

Ulysses nodded and aimed his MP7A1 forward after removing it from the bag upon his back, ready to fire at anything that threatened their lives. The two humans stalked forward like the predators they were, with the pony following behind, ready to defend herself from any other creatures that populated the area. She could only imagine what lived down here. If these two survived, possibly something worse had too. She shuddered and walked fast in order to catch up to her captors.

The unlikely team stepped into the room, gazing in awe at the sheer vastness of the area. The entire room had been spherical in shape, but different catwalks and ledges provided areas for computers and other science terminals to be placed, with the occasional skeleton perched on a seat. In the middle of the room was a large, metallic stalk that connected to gigantic ball with ridges running all over it. Wires sprung and hung out unceremoniously from the bottom, indicating that something had possibly went wrong earlier. The largeness of the object was intimidating to all three, and it looked as if it would grow annoyed with them at any moment, only to break off and crush them.

Westin felt his jaw slack, "...Damn... That's big... Real big..."

Ulysses seemed rather reluctant to go any further into the charred hell "I don't think we should be here, Westin."

But the team continued forth regardless. The air was thick with the stench of stale smoke and burnt papers. Computers had been reduced to piles of slag, not even a relic of mankind's technological advancements. Ulysses broke left and moved around several lab benches, scanning for any viable threats. It was an old technique of his, one used many times in his violent hobbies. Putting such nostalgic memories out of his mind, Ulysses looked back at Westin who had gone right and around a long panel that protruded from the floor. It was covered in dials and buttons, along with the occasional screen which bulged from the surface. The well-muscled man was walking with a relaxed slouch, pistol hanging in his hand as his eyes darted around the room.

Pyrite Dreams had ignored both the left and right sides and instead went straight, stepping over the many skeletons that lined the floor. Ulysses went back to his immediate area and located what appeared to be a functioning computer nestled against the corner of the nearby wall. Its monitor blinked on occasion and he picked it up in gentle hands, sliding the piece of equipment onto a nearby table. Unfortunately, there was no mouse for the aforementioned computer, but all was not lost and Ulysses' sharp eyes located a wire dangling from Pyrite's pack. He whistled, caught her attention and waved her over. She was reluctant at first but after another wave of coldness washed over his visage, Pyrite hurried over and Ulysses unzipped the backpack, pulling a mouse from its confines.

Pyrite watched on with curiosity as the man linked up the mouse to the computer, making use of one of the three USB ports. Westin had finished his rather lazy search and was beginning to return to where Ulysses stood, but the giant piece of machinery caught his attention again and he stopped to stare at the absolute immensity of it. Ulysses glanced up at the enraptured man before going back to his current task at hand. With the mouse being shaken, the monitor lit up happily and displayed several errors and other meaningless messages. Sighing at the rickety piece of technology, Ulysses slapped his hand on the back of the monitor, surprised to see its functioning ability increase. He clicked on several folders, finding only worthless information about energy fields and nonsense related to it.

Pyrite, however, expressed great amazement at the computer "W-What is that?"

Ulysses eyes remained on the screen as he clicked yet another option onscreen "Have you never seen a computer my little friend?"

Shaking her head in the negative, Pyrite spoke "No, never. It's amazing."

"This is a piece of garbage. If you were to have seen this in its glory days...Wait a moment, what do we have here?"

Ulysses clicked on a box which had randomly appeared and minimized without his command. Pyrite looked on with interest as Ulysses opened the closed tab. A small message was displayed, seconds counting down on a miniature and virtual timer. His eyes widened at the words and he looked over the computer and at Westin. Everything became incredibly vivid for Ulysses at that moment and he saw the skeletons in amazing detail. There were several of them, but that fact was hardly important. What mattered was their position. Arms outstretched and mutilated shrapnel in their backs, they had been reaching for the exit. Ulysses saw a slight spark come from the machine and he called out.

"Westin! We have to go _now_!"

The obnoxious man looked back at Ulysses only to shut his eyes as a flurry of sparks danced down from the machine. It was activating. Ulysses looked down at the message displayed on screen "Testing Beta 1 in 8...7..."

Never before had Ulysses moved so fast in his life and Westin followed suit, chased after by Pyrite who quickly gained on them. Perhaps jealous that the men had realized their imminent destruction, a skeleton's hand jammed its bony fingers into Ulysses ankle and he fell, eyes widening with horror. He could see the timer in his mind and he knew that he was about to die. Westin turned and reached out for him, Pyrite doing the same. There was a huge intake of air and quiet pause. The room exploded.

Suddenly, quiet covered the three. The two humans opened their eyes, ready to see themselves only half intact, if at all. What they saw surprised them, and began to make them believers in this so-called "magic" more so. Pyrite, with her horn glowing amber once more, was covering the group in a bubble-like shield. Fire swam across the surface, desperately trying to break through the magic and consume the living beings inside. The sight was one of true beauty, and soon, like all things that shined spectacularly, it died down slowly with a whimper, leaving the air warm and thick. Westin pulled his arms away from his face and held a hand down to Ulysses, who was lying on the floor.

He turned his head to Pyrite, "Thanks, that was pretty gangsta an' shit."

Pyrite, despite still being angry from earlier, nodded, "Let's just leave this place, I want to get back to Canterlot."

Westin smirked, "Camelot?"

"Canterlot!"

He grinned, "Camel toe?"

"It's called Canterlot! It's the city I'm from!"

"Doesn't sound as good as Chi-City."

She gave him a confused look, "Is that some kind of tea that you drink?"

Westin sputtered out unintelligible words, "Pf-wha? Tea? The fuck?"

Ulysses shrugged "Chi tea, Westin. You drink it."

Westin threw his hands down, "Ew. That shit is disgusting. Black coffee all the way, erryday. That stuff is the real ma-"

A screeching over the intercom cut off the man, who covered his ears along with the others. They all began to look around for the source when suddenly, "Hail to the Chief" began to play. It was quickly cut off as a familiar voice began to get projected towards them.

"My, my. Americans in my complex? Wait... I can only say that about one of you can't I? The other is just a -bzzt- FILTHY, CONNIVING, FOREIGNER -bzzt-. Well now, how is you're still alive, my little humans?"

Ulysses looked over at Westin, "JFK?"

Westin nodded, "Oh damn... I heard this nigga's speech about space at Rice University... I knew it! He didn't get killed, he was hiding!"

"It's not actually him, Westin. It's prerecorded."

Pyrite's head shot in all directions, with her being visibly frightened, "Who-What? Where's that coming from?" She sat on her haunches, ears down, "Who is that? What's he talking about?"

Westin's eyes scanned the room and he spoke slowly, "Mr. President... My President..."

Ulysses flipped the safety off on his submachine gun and made his way towards the exit, speaking over his shoulder as he did so "I'm not going to wait around for a dead president to spout his tyrannical speeches. Let's leave my friends."

The voice rung out, "Right decision my constituents! The hazards in my complex will surely prove to be a quick demise! Just make sure you leave -bzzt- IN A BODY BAG -bzzt-, would you please? The messes can be hard to clean up with all of the janitors now being dead."

Westin nudged Pyrite forward, "Don't need to tell me twice nigga, we outtie."

"Yes, yes, Mr. President. We'll be on our way." Ulysses nodded his head towards the door and Westin, along with Pyrite, made their way past. Ulysses stopped in the doorway and looked back at the burnt and flaming room, eyes flickering over the destruction. He turned and ran after his companions.

Westin jogged past some rooms alongside the other two with him.

He chuckled to himself and spoke to no one in particular, "JFK want's to push my top back like JFK. What a joke."

Little did he know he was perfectly right with that sentence.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

There you go, folks, the second chapter. We've introduced our two human protagonists, and both of us are pretty happy with how they turned out. Just try and guess who belongs to who, I dare ya. Shit is going to get cray, _real soon_. Me and Lucius are ballin' with this shit so far, and we're cranking out content like nobody's business.

Quick note about Stasis (funny how I contribute towards an update for this fic more than my own), the "scene" is coming along fine it seems. I can't remember how many words there are (somewhere between 6k-8k?), but it will be out _somewhat_ soon. I know, it's been over a month so far, but I doubt anyone cares anyway. If you do care, be prepared! And by "Be Prepared", I mean make sure no one is around you while reading it. Why? Because their face might melt from the sheer amount of greatness. I don't want to really write anymore about this in the Author's Notes, so enjoy your day and all that good shit.

As always,

Stay Trilla.

* * *

><p><strong>Lucius Seneca<strong>

"So you've been introduced to our human characters. One's a serial killer, the other a drug dealer. Expect some intense dynamics to arise. Stillmatic & I are fucking going all out on this so expect good writing."


	4. Chapter 4

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Three: Paved Over Graves**

* * *

><p>It had been at least an hour's worth of walking before the trio finally ended up back at the entrance to the facility. The lower end of the door was pulled down, letting in the last rays of sunshine through. Their approach was cut short when an odd creature, a cockatrice, clucked its way into the entrance and sat there, waiting.<p>

Westin's eyes glistened, "Damn. They haven't served us chicken in a while... We could pluck it now, cook it, eat it, an' just enjoy that shit."

Pyrite stood stock-still, unmoving except for the jittering, "Don't move! It's a cockatrice! It can turn us into stone if we look it in the eyes!"

Ulysses sighed absently, being his usual detached self, and pulled his pistol from its place which, at the moment, was wedged between his jeans and back. The weapon kicked as Ulysses double tapped the odd looking chicken. The strangely soothing sound of the bullet discharging, gunshot muffled by the silencer, accompanied the surprised squeal of the so-called cockatrice. The bullets lodged themselves in the breast of the fowl and it collapsed to the ground with a quiet thump. Ulysses looked at his companions who seemed surprised at his accuracy "What?"

Westin shrugged, "You fucked it up. You know what you did wrong, right?"

"Ruined the meat, have I?" Ulysses bent down and looked over the dead animal, surprised to see two crumpled bullets tumbled from its feathers. After a little sifting through the thick feathers, Ulysses discovered a layer of scales beneath, dented from the impact of the projectiles. He seemed surprised at the fact, but Ulysses' surprise skyrocketed as the creature jumped back to life, seemingly knocked unconscious from the bullets and their impact. Hands wrapped around the cockatrice's throat and Ulysses swiftly wrung its neck, a sickening crack emanating from within its flesh.

Guffawing, Westin threw his hands into the air overdramatically, "Nigga, I wasn't talking about the meat, I was talking about your nerdy ass style." He pulled out his Beretta and flipped it 90 degrees to the left, effectively gangsterfying it, "This is how it's done!" He fired a few shots between branches in a tree, "BLAT, BLAT MOTHAFUCKA! TREE BARK BITCH!"

A magpie fell dead to the floor, its entire wing and head blow clean off.

Westin looked at his gun before holstering it, "Well damn, I guess I'm just really fuckin' good with this shit."

Ulysses shut his eyes in frustration, hand going to his temple. That was not how you shot a handgun in Ulysses' world and the ignorance offended him, but he kept his cool nonetheless "Yes, well, you have your...style and I have mine. As for skill, that is left to be seen, but I have a feeling that Lady Luck was kind to you just now."

Westin chuckled to himself, "Lady Luck be on my dick all the time, not that I need her though."

Before either was able to say anything after that, Pyrite spoke, "Okay, um, do you two want to come with me? To Canterlot? This may seem a bit sudden but-"

Westin cut in, "They got beds that aren't plastic?"

Her faced scrunched in confusion, "... I suppose? It's really nice there! Really!"

He turned to Ulysses, who had been listening silently the whole time, "Whatchou think?"

The pale and gaunt man ran a finger down the bridge of his nose and over his lips, pausing at his chin for a moment. Ulysses looked over at Westin "Well, we find ourselves in a strange situation, do we not? I would greatly appreciate a true bed as neither I nor Westin have been with proper comfort for some time now. But that is not the problem. The problem is the city itself. Would we not attract interest from law enforcement? I wish to avoid such a meeting if possible."

The young black man nodded, "Word, I hate cops... Whoa-What the fuck!" Realization hit him, " Something ain't right! There were buildings around here when we got admitted! What the hell happened to this shit? I don't remember it lookin' all sunshiny trees and shit."

The area was indeed much different than when Ulysses had been admitted. Sure, he had been tranquilized on his arrival but his mind had still retained the memories of buildings and people talking. Surely the group had come out the wrong exit, but something stirred in Ulysses and he realized that this was not the case. Rolling his sleeve up, he looked at the silver watch on his wrist. It had stopped ticking.

Westin was looking around when Ulysses caught his attention. The ebony man seemed about to say something when he saw the look in Ulysses' eye. Ulysses himself shook his head slowly and the two men turned to look at Pyrite who pulled her head back in surprise "Did I say something wrong? Why're you looking at me like that?"

Westin seemed to understand the situation, "I'm thinking... we ain't in New York anymore... Just how long've we been in there?"

The unicorn shuffled her hooves, "Well, it's about 3516, Celestial Era."

Both humans stopped and stared at her, their expressions vague and emotionless. She tried to give a half-smile, but it came out crooked and corrupted by her uneasiness. A weak laugh later, she was still being stared at.

Westin exhaled, "That doesn't sound good, man, at all."

Ulysses sat down tiredly. The grass grabbed at his feet and he twirled it like a braid "Celestial Era...I'm guessing here, but Westin, I think we've been locked up for over three thousand years..."

Westin followed Ulysses example and sat against a tree, taking in the cool shade, "Damn... That means everyone is probably gone..." A weak, unconvincing smile crossed his face, "That means there are no cops though, at least." He gave a few weak laughs before hanging his head and fiddling with a daisy near him.

The sun was falling, but Ulysses took no notice of such a mundane thing and pulled absently at the grass. He fought the depression that crawled across his body like a wave of goosebumps. He had never had a true family, per say, but Ulysses was not without friends, or at least, he_ had_ been without friends. The situation was a somber one indeed and Ulysses laughed sadly, mimicking Westin to an extent "I don't have to worry about lethal injection anymore though..." He looked up at Pyrite than over to Westin "Who am I kidding?"

Westin's head raised, his eyes connecting with Pyrite's. He crawled over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders with more force than necessary, "There are other people, right?" When she didn't immediately respond, he gave her a violent shake, dazing her, "RIGHT? NOT EVERYONE DIED, RIGHT?"

Pyrite tried to give as comforting as a look as possible, "I'm sorry, but I think you're the first creatures of your kind that we've ever found."

The men glanced about aimlessly until Pyrite snapped them out of it "Just what are you two? You never really told me."

Ulysses stood up and approached some nearby bushes, he looked outwards at the trees in the distance before returning his attention to Pyrite "Humans. The dominant species. Or at least we were."

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that." Pyrite tilted her head in order to hear better.

The tone of Ulysses' voice turned deadly. She had never heard this side of him before and he stared at her with anger "Humans. Are you deaf or stupid?"

Pyrite's ears fell at that. Not because she had just been insulted, but by what he claimed he was.

"B-B-But humans- I-I-No! Humans are just fairy tales! They don't really exist! They're just myths that somepony came up with!"

"Don't you dare say that ever again. We were never fairy tales. We owned this world. It was ours and we had it in our control. YOU are the real fairytale. A goddam unicorn! What a joke." Ulysses sat back down as he finished his little rant, temper cooling off rapidly.

Westin began to add to that, "The fuck? I may be an urban legend, but I'm not some fuckin' fairy godmother type shit. Fairy tales! Bullshit!"

Pyrite crossed her forelegs, "It's true! Barely anypony even remembers those myths, and even Celestia herself said that humans never existed! Even if they did exist, they were all wiped out in the tale, so hah! How do you explain that?"

Ulysses stood up and before Pyrite could react, his hand tightened around her windpipe, forcing her back. His eyes had gone cold and although his face lacked emotion, Ulysses was undoubtedly angry "Go ahead, laugh again."

Westin pushed him away and slapped Pyrite out of his hands, "How the fuck do you expect her to tell us if the bitch can't breathe? Dumbass white boy." He stomped his foot next to the coughing Pyrite, scaring her, "Start fucking talking. Now."

Her coughing slowly subsided, but her voice was just slightly hoarse, "If humans existed once, they'd be all dead by now... There's nothing left of them and only a few ponies actually think were ever real. Hay, only a few countries even recognize them as national mythos, and those countries aren't exactly reputable." She stopped and stared at the two humans in front of her, "Do you two want to hear it? The tale?"

Fighting the urge to tackle Westin, Ulysses glared at him "I never asked her to tell me anything. We're not damn myths. We never have been." Ulysses looked down at the startled archaeologist "Go ahead and tell us."

Pyrite cleared her throat, "The myth, from what I can remember, is that humans existed thousands of years ago, but began to mysteriously vanish, along with the evidence of them existing. After some time, the races you'd see today began to emerge. Nopony knows how or why it happened, but something definitely did and changed everything. The last humans tried to control what they could and keep everypony down, but every race except for a few teamed up and took down the remaining humans. Since then, there haven't been any sightings or structures that could tell us if they ever really existed. What we know is-" she looked at them, "they walked on two legs..." Pyrite glanced at the entrance to the facility, "they had really big buildings..." the gun on Westin's belt caught her eye, "and they had really destructive technology."

Ulysses pulled Pyrite to her feet before turning his back on the situation. His mind was straining to perceive the fact that he and Westin were the last of the human race and when they finally died, so would mankind. Resting his head against the trunk of a nearby oak tree, Ulysses forced himself into a series of deep breathing exercises, effectively calming his rage and placing the man into a state of calm before he looked back at his partners. Westin had a look of amazement and distraught upon his complexion. Pyrite glanced between the two humans, eyes wide with unknowing, unable to comprehend the feelings of defeat flowing through them. Ulysses sat down once again and looked over at the dead cockatrice. Its glassy eyes stared at him even in death.

Westin stood up abruptly, realization evident on his face, "Fuck! Courtney!" He grabbed Ulysses by the shoulders, "She's still down there! We gotta get her!"

The man began to pace around, considering every possible plan of approach. He looked back at the large door behind him and walked to it. As if it had a mind of its own, it quickly shot upwards, closing itself. Westin's jaw fell, stunned at the unexpected reaction to his presence.

The intercom screeched before becoming clear, "My good man, I do believe that you are trespassing. Either leave the premises on mutual terms, or -bzzt- LEAVE IN A BODY BAG, SCUM -bzzt- on my terms. Is that understood?"

Quiet descended over the forest until Ulysses broke it with direct words "We'll be back, Mr. President. I can assure you of that." He looked over at the jittery Westin "Don't worry. We'll get her back."

Ulysses returned his attention to Pyrite with coldness "Do you have a camp nearby? Anything?" As if on cue, the sun dipped behind the mountains and the inky blackness invaded the area. Although Ulysses was no more than a faint ghost in the dark, his voice cut swathes in the thick darkness "I believe it is due time to find shelter. I don't wish to run into anything predatory at this hour."

Westin ran his hands down his face, "My fucking sister man..." He turned to Pyrite as well, "Let's get this shit sorted out. My gut tells me that we got a lotta shit that needs doin' later on, like busting back into this fuckin' place."

Pyrite nodded, "I have a camp nearby, but I only have one tent and one sleeping bag. I don't think either of you would fit in them."

Westin shrugged, "As long as I get something to eat, I'll knock out quick. Don't matter on what though, we been sleeping on hard ass plastic for I don't know how many weeks. What're we doin' when we wake up?"

She began to lead them to her small campsite, "Head to the nearest town, Ponyville."

Westin held in a laugh at the name and sat down on the pavement, dropping the body of the cockatrice onto it for cooking later.

* * *

><p>The sun broke its golden rays over the Everfree Forest, causing small particles to be illuminated as they danced about and swirled in the rapidly warming air. There was a slight breeze blowing across the marshes, bringing with it the smell of thick salt and rotting plant matter; a most tangible scent. Ulysses sat with his back against a tree, makeshift fire poker in his hand as he pushed and prodded the embers of the dying fire. Westin snored loudly nearby, a smear of grease on his cheek. The cockatrice had turned out to be a rather intoxicating creature, mimicking the effects of alcohol. Ulysses had forgone the food and had instead eaten from a small cup of instant noodles. It had been a less than pleasant evening, what with Westin laughing frequently and stumbling around. Pyrite had spent most of the night taking notes and muttering quietly under her breath about this or that, occasionally glancing up at Ulysses who hadn't moved all night, awaking in the same position he now sat in.<p>

Westin's body shot upwards, his head moving in all directions and his arms flailing as he stumbled around, "STOP! I AIN'T GOIN' BACK!" He fell onto his backside and cradled his head, "Oooohhh, damn... That cockalockadoo... My head..."

Pyrite exited her tent with slight bags under her eyes. She let out a long yawn before sitting by where the fire once existed.

The archeologist rubbed her right eye with a hoof, "We can start going now, after breakfast. It'll be dusk by the time we get there though."

Ulysses watched Pyrite stretch once again, mimicking a cat. He pulled Westin to his feet and by the time that Pyrite realized she was being watched, Ulysses had looked away. The pale man pulled on his backpack and adjusted the pistol at his belt.

Pyrite smirked inwardly at what occurred, "What's on the menu for breakfast? I have some cans of Tourist's Delight, if you two want any."

Westin rubbed at his temples, "The fuck is that?"

She levitated a can out, "Preserved and processed hay."

Westin opened his mouth to insult the very idea of such a concept, but closed it in favor of starting another fire to boil some water instead. Roughly five minutes later, the three were each eating respective cups of instant noodles, with Westin avoiding the chicken flavored version, mostly in part of his horrible experience eating the cockatrice.

Westin emptied the rest of the cup into his mouth, letting the lukewarm soup and noodles heat his mouth, "Shoulda had the cockamachock... That was some serious shit in there..."

Pyrite giggled, "There's a reason Cockatrices aren't eaten by other creatures, you know."

The man snorted in response, "I figured. 'Ey, let's leave already, right?"

She nodded and began to pack her items back into her bag. Westin and Ulysses waited until she was finished. The unicorn turned back to her two human companions to find them playing a game she didn't recognize, which happened to be rock, paper, scissors. What she also didn't know was that a Manticore was standing over her, claw ready to be brought down on her head.

Ulysses beat Westin for the second time, effectively destroying his opponent with scissors, cutting ribbons into the pretended paper. The Manticore continued to watch the scene, perhaps interested in the strange gathering before him. The trio had yet to notice the creature and as Pyrite took a step forward to grab the last item she needed, a huge claw slammed into the dirt behind her, sending her flying forward. Embers from the fire jumped into the air and the humans wheeled at the incredibly loud thump, pistols already in their hands.

Westin ripped his weapon from his belt and fired, bullet only grazing the hairs on the side of the Manticore's face. It roared in retaliation, forcing each in the group to cover their ears. Pyrite had ducked under a swipe, newly formed tears running down her face from the ear damage. She ran past her human compatriots and stood behind them, readying her horn in case of attack. Ulysses began to fire his MP7A1 at the creature, scoring direct hits towards the body with precision and ease. The Manticore leaped forward, separating the two humans with Westin rolling to his right to avoid a swipe. His eyes spied the scorpion tail leaning to its right, as if preparing for something. He glanced at Ulysses, who for reasons he didn't understand himself, leaped back, narrowly avoiding an impaling stab from the poisonous stinger.

Falling to the ground after tripping on an exposed root, Ulysses sat calmly in the dirt and fired at the Manticore's ankles, causing it to scream with pain and anger. Ulysses glanced over at Westin, rolling as a claw raked the ground next to him. The ebony nodded even though there had been no communication and vanished into the forest as Ulysses waved Pyrite back, indicating that magic would do little good here. She retreated and watched the scene. Ulysses stood up and circled the creature, eyes calm with focus and carefully refined anger at the harsh treatment. The Manticore screamed its unintelligible war cries once again and Ulysses fired into the creature's chest, weakening it as blood began to soak its fur, staining it darkly. The submachine gun clicked annoyingly, indicating the emptiness of the magazine currently inserted in the handle of the weapon. Reaching back, Ulysses pulled another magazine from his backpack, but was forced to drop the weapon and its respective ammo as another swing of the claw, intending to decapitate him, sliced the air above his head.

A scream cut through the air as Westin leaped onto the back of the Manticore. Gripping it by the hair, he flipped around and emptied a few rounds into the tail, crippling it beyond use. The large predator began to shake and buck the man off of itself, without much success. Using his Beretta, he began to slam and pistol the whip the skull of the Manticore, also without any serious success in terms of stopping the behemoth. Westin ducked his head down, narrowly avoiding a shot from Ulysses, who had reloaded his weapon. Using his hands, he began to search for the area on the back that would indicate the spine, and after locating said body part, fired at it repeatedly.

The Manticore was crippled almost instantly, a weak scream coming from its lips as it fell forward, paralyzed from the several bullets now lodged in its spine. It clawed weakly at the ground, one arm limp and motionless while the other seemed barely active. Its legs twitched, indicating that the Manticore had become paralyzed from the waist down for the most part. Westin climbed off the creature and Ulysses calmly laid his fully automatic weapon on the ground, opting for his pistol as he unscrewed the silencer off the barrel. The men approached the head of the Manticore, Ulysses pushed his weapon into the beast's mouth, aiming slightly upwards, intending to fire a bullet upwards and into its brain, avoiding the thick skull which would most likely block a bullet from the outside.

Westin pushed the end of the barrel into the eye of the beast, ignoring its cries of pain. He looked at Ulysses and they both nodded at each other, ready to finish the creature. At the same moment, they fired, each bullet penetrating the through the body and heading straight towards the brain, destroying the grey matter instantly and splattering the insides messily. The head fell to the floor, kicking up some loose dirt and staining the ground a red hue. Pyrite peeked out from behind a tree and her jaw fell in horror at the sight of the two humans standing over the dead Manticore, wiping dirt off of themselves.

Ulysses wiped a small droplet of blood off his face, flicking his fingers in order to free himself of the rapidly cooling liquid. For whatever reason, Ulysses sensed Pyrite was watching them and so he spoke without turning "The issue has been resolved. You're free to come out now."

Westin gritted his teeth in anger, "That cat made me ruin my jersey." He twisted his body around to get a better look at his back, "Grass stains, dirt stains. This shit better come out, or I'm gonna fuck someone up."

Pyrite, who was still in shock from their actions and how they simply shrugged the killing of Manticore off, slowly made her way to Westin, horn glowing. The stains disappeared before his eyes, picking up his mood and giving him a smile.

"Ight, thanks for that."

She nodded shakily and lifted her bag onto her back, "Ready to leave now? And thanks, for saving me that is. I appreciate it."

Ulysses shoved his submachine gun into his pack along with the stray, emptied magazine. Stowing his pistol away as well, Ulysses looked over his companions "These woods put me in a somber mood, let us go."

* * *

><p>The trio emerged from the Everfree Forest as sunset approached. It was almost ironic how the thing they were finally expecting to see was already bidding farewell for the day. They stopped for a small break before continuing on. Pyrite took a sip from her canteen while both humans drank from their respective water bottles. After gaining back some strength, they continued towards the village nearby. Both Westin and Ulysses felt uncomfortable at the site of such antique houses, with a few exceptions to those that look incredibly odd. One such building had been the one they were heading to, Sugarcube Corner. The two humans shared looks before following Pyrite, who seemed perfectly at ease. She turned back to see Westin's arm over Ulysses' shoulder, whispering something with a devious smile. The unicorn stopped and raised a brow at them. Ulysses nodded and Westin removed his arm from him, holding in some secret from Pyrite. She frowned, a bit unhappy that they wouldn't share information with her.<p>

Sighing, she pointed towards Sugarcube Corner, "Come on, let's get some snacks. I can't stand to eat anymore cans of hay or soup."

Luckily for the exhausted humans, the strangely decorated confectionary was open, although it was soon to be closed for the night. Ulysses pushed through the swinging doors and stepped inside, quickly followed by Westin who seemed slightly antsy. The small shop was quaint, but cozy and the smells that wafted around in the sluggish air were addicting to say the least. A bright pink pony hopped around aimlessly behind the counter, head occasionally disappearing behind the register as she jumped and bounced, face showing obvious signs of innate glee. Westin slipped past Ulysses as Pyrite approached the door. The presence of the humans went unnoticed for several more minutes until a pair of ponies, one colored an orangey yellow and the other cyan blue with a rainbow mane and tail, turned their attention to the doorway, eyes widening in shock. Ulysses looked at them calmly, observing their frightened expressions with dead eyes.

Westin nudged Ulysses, "This place is made out of diabetes, nigga. Hope the floor is steady though..." The nod he received made him grin, "Ight then, get ready for this shit."

Westin slowly strolled with superior swag and style towards a seat, before he tripped over one of its legs and did a slightly dramatic roll to the floor. Cradling his left ankle, he howled out in faux pain, attracting the attention of all customers inside the store. The orange and rainbow mares trotted quickly to him, observing his pained expressions. One reached out to his ankle, only for him to yell out louder, hurting the ears of the nearby patrons. He cracked one eye open towards Ulysses, making sure that he was doing as was planned.

Ulysses was already moving, dodging past the pink cashier as she rushed over to help the apparently injured Westin. Bag sliding across the countertop, Ulysses stepped behind the counter and grabbed the bag as it finished its slide. The register popped open and Ulysses, somewhat surprised to see golden coins, pulled handfuls from the metallic confines and shoved them into the now unzipped bag. The pistol made its way out of the bag's blackened depths and Ulysses wedged it between his jeans and back, ensuring more room for the coinage which was beginning to pile up within the bag. The pink pony's head shot up in surprise and Ulysses watched as she whirled, eyes locking onto his. Ignoring the stare, Ulysses pulled the bag over his shoulder and leapt over the counter, indicating to Westin that now was the time to leave.

Westin got up, only to realize that the operation had been successful. He didn't know exactly what told him to get up at that moment, but he ignored the pestering thoughts, while being more interested in leaving the store. He pushed past the ponies, knocking several over. They could only look with their dumbfounded and shocked expressions at him before he whistled towards Ulysses, who was holding open the door. He cranked his head towards the display case that the register resided on. Without words, Ulysses told him of his current hunger. Westin smirked and kicked the display, sending glass inwards and luckily avoiding most of the sweets. He grabbed as much as he could and two large baguettes before heading out the door, with Ulysses following. The ponies inside, Pyrite included, stood there slack-jawed at what had just happened. The archeologist immediately came to her senses and with a look of worry, sped after the two rambunctious humans. She didn't know however, that three other ponies were in pursuit as well.

Ulysses and Westin dashed down the streets, cutting a comical scene as Westin juggled several desserts in his hands, smearing icing over his forearms and jersey. Ulysses glanced back at the four ponies in pursuit and he looked over at Westin, nodding his head behind them at their pursuers. Westin shrugged and threw one of the baguettes, using it as javelin of sorts, laughing as it collided with the pink pony's face, knocking her down in a stunned heap. Ulysses laughed quietly, one of the sounds that rarely came from him. They turned a corner and skidded to a halt. Finding their path blocked by several large wagons which appeared to be offloading goods to the nearby stores. Ulysses looked over at Westin and promptly pulled out his pistol.

Their pursuers arrived behind them seconds later and they faced off. Ulysses nodded his head at Pyrite who sighed loudly before joining them. She simply wasn't willing to lose her specimens before she reached Canterlot.

Ulysses tapped Westin, directing him towards the pony with a cowboy hat. The baguette-wielding man nodded and Ulysses set his sights on the blue pony. He was surprised to see wings sprouting from her back, but he paid it little mind, walking casually up to the rainbow and blue colored pony. She stood up on her hind legs; A more humorous than serious stance. Ulysses retracted this thought, however, and ducked under a weird jab made by the pegasus. It didn't take much time for Ulysses to subdue the pony and he slammed his pistol into the bottom of her chin, knocking her backwards and onto the dusty street. Onlookers were beginning to gather and Ulysses, feeling eyes crawling over him, kicked the downed pegasus in the chest, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to completely collapse. His foot connected with the blue pony's ribs and a distinct snapping could be heard. She cried out and Ulysses grabbed her by the mane and tail, throwing her into a nearby wall where she collapsed into an unconscious heap. Turning in time to see Westin break the baguette over the cowboy pony, Ulysses smiled at the darkly comical situation.

Westin cackled to himself as the hard bread broke over the cowpony's head, dazing her, "Hah! That shit actually worked!"

The pony shook its head and regained its composure, only to threaten Westin, "Y'all are about to be in fer a hurtin', Mister!"

Something in the recesses of his mind suddenly snapped. The accent of that pony and what it said just struck a chord somewhere inside his head, somewhere that boiled a steaming stew of anger. He glared at her, neither backing down nor stepping back. Suddenly, much to her surprise, he did in fact turn around and walk away. She almost smiled smugly to herself, but her pride was cut short when an ear-shattering crack snapped through the air, freezing in her place as something zipped by. Her Stetson hat flew down to the ground in front of her, a hole on either side.

A ferocity broke out inside of her, and she rushed forward at Westin, who was clutching the gun. He stuck it back between his belt and pants, and as the cowpony got close, he prepared himself for his next move. As she came around to tackle him, he leaned forward, ready to grab her and suppress the blow. Of course, she ended up spinning around at the last second and bucking him right in the chest. Luckily, the Kevlar was able to absorb most of the blow. He quickly recovered, silently cursing her for probably leaving a bad bruise or welt. The Earth pony rounded again, still focused on giving payback where it was due.

She ran forward again, her mane zipping around along with her. The cowpony repeated the same thing again, expecting her opponent to fall for it. This time, he was prepared. With a swift jump and grab, he was on top of her mid-buck. Her eyes widened in shock as he forced her down to the ground and wrapped his arms around her underbelly. Ideas of what he was going to do raced through her mind as she was quickly lifted up into the air. Without warning, Westin suplexed the cowpony into the dirt, nearly knocking her unconscious in the process. She was barely able to see the Nike shoe connect to her face before she went lights out.

Westin wiped his hands, as if to get grime off of it, "Don't fuckin' try that Bruce Lee judo kick shit on me, bitch!"

Ulysses slung the bag off his back and unzipped it, shoving his pistol back in before removing the MP7A1 from its hiding place. Coins jingled around within, but he managed to keep them from spilling. The crowd had thickened and angry pedestrians were beginning to close in around them. Pyrite looked nervous, but Westin seemed too angry to notice and was still spewing profanities at the unconscious pony in front of him. Ulysses pulled the bag over his shoulder and absently sprayed bullets at the gathering ponies, not really aiming at them, but more so to scare them from the dirt that kicked up in front of them. Cries and frightened screams mixed with the gunshots, making a strange chorus of fear. Westin looked up at the sudden bursts of gunfire, but the humans still found the crowd far too thick to push through and Ulysses waved Westin over, quickly followed Pyrite. A nearby shop provided an escape route and Ulysses fired at the door, turning it into a collection of thick splinters before kicking it open and making their way into the interior of what appeared to be a barbers shop. Basins, scissors, strange collections of combs, and a startled pony were contained within.

The barber pony immediately became infuriated at the three intruders, completely disregarding their weapons. He stomped over to Ulysses and glared at him.

"Just what the HAY do you think you're doing in MY shop? Huh?"

Right as Ulysses was about smack the pony, the barber head-butted him in the crotch, dropping him to the floor. A wheeze came out as the man fought to regain his composure, which proved somewhat difficult with his most sensitive body part now aching. The barber shop seemed to get quiet as the tough stallion dragged his hoof along the floor, ready to charge at Westin.

Westin shook his head at the icy blue barber, "You better check yo'self before you wreck yo'self, brother."

A smirk crossed the barber's face, "I think I can take you. Today feels kinda odd. Today feels like a good day."

"Bring it."

The assailant barber charged forward, only for Westin to sidestep and kick him in the belly. The air escaped the barber pony as he barely managed to stand up. He gritted his teeth and attempted to buck the human. What ended up happening was Westin kicked him directly in the rear end, eliciting a defeated yelp from the short-maned pony. Westin shrugged and went next to Ulysses.

He nudged the ivory-skinned man, "Come on, let's leave already."

Ulysses gave a cold look to his comrade, right before throwing a punch at the same place he had been hit. Westin didn't realize it was coming, but oddly enough, he backed up right in time, only nicking him slightly. He protectively covered the area for a moment before just dropping his hands all together. Ulysses finally recovered from the blow and kicked open the back door to allow the group through. Five ponies clad in golden armor met them there, ready to shout and arrest them.

Both men clenched their fists and teeth, but it was Westin to speak first, "I fuckin' hate cops!"

Ulysses sighed. Today was not a good day and his temper had grown short. When the humans refused to give themselves up, the armor-clad guards rushed the trio. Ulysses threw himself up against a nearby wall and brought his MP7 down on the top of a guards head. The blow merely stunned the white stallion as his cranium was protected by a thick, golden helmet. The gun struck him in the face next and he crumpled like a tower of cards. Unfortunately, Ulysses was tackled by another guard and they struggled on the ground, grunting and breathing heavily, the automatic firearm skidding away in the scuffle. Unable to see what Westin was undergoing, Ulysses fought his assailant with focused rage, slamming the heel of his palm into the stallion's nose, breaking it and causing a spray of blood to cover Ulysses' face. He spat out the salty red mixture and as he regained his footing, a hoof caught him in the face, bruising his skin. Ulysses recovered quickly and punched back, using his calloused palms instead of bare fists. The opposing guard's head jerked back several times from the impacts and before he could react, Ulysses had grabbed him by the head, swung onto his back and had hit him in a delicate spot behind the ear, effectively knocking the guard unconscious.

Westin huffed, completely unnerved at his luck. Surrounding him were three guards, each circling and stalking like predators. His fight-or-flight response kicked in, completely obliterating his sense and replacing it with a spite-fueled adrenaline rush. A guard that had successfully gotten behind the man ran forward, ready to tackle him to the floor. Westin heard the distinct clicking of hooves and rolled out of the way, but kept a leg out. The guard tripped over the extended body part and hit his face against the ground before getting up again and wiping the blood off of his face.

While Westin was distracted, another guard ran at him from the side, bucking him and sending him stumbling to his left. The third guard did the same to his front, effectively knocking him to the floor. Westin's eyes shot open and he rolled to his left, just barely avoiding a series of hooves that wanted to smash his face into the ground. He scrambled to his feet and glared at the three guards. His mind wandered for a moment as he thought about how well Ulysses was holding up. The man ducked, having a guard's leap miss entirely. He opted to focus on the fight instead, at least, for now.

With that settled, Westin began to consider his options. Recalling the guard behind him, he leaped backwards and landed on top of said guard, using his elbow as the connecting area. The elbow drop landed successfully, hitting the guard in the unprotected area of his side. Blood splattered out of the guard's mouth, most likely from internal bleeding from the hit. Before the others could intervene, Westin kicked off the helmet and stomped on the head, knocking the guard out cold.

He turned to the other two, who traded uneasy looks. They seemed to gather their courage back and team up on him, as evidenced by their circling of him again. Westin quickly scoured his mind for some move he could use, and inspiration slapped him across his face. He reached back and grabbed a fist full of dirt from the nearby grass. Waiting for one of the guards to attack, he threw it at the one behind him, stopping him in his tracks for a few precious moments. The other guard gritted his teeth and charged forward, trying to buy his teammate some time to recover.

Westin sidestepped the charge, but a hoof slammed into his foot, forcing out a pain-riddled yell. He smacked the guard's head and gave it a good shake before ripping off the helmet and backhanding him. The guard spat blood onto the floor and locked eyes with the man across from him. He charged forward once more, ready to buck the lights out of the meddlesome ape creature in front of him. But, as Lady Luck would have it for once, Westin was able to let himself time a roll on top of the guard, where his weight brought the both of them down. The guard hit his face against the hard surface, and swayed as he sat up on his haunches. A kick across the face was delivered, sending him into a forced state of slumber.

The last guard was finally able to clear his eyes, but all too late. Using his favorite professional wrestling move that he remembered from when he was child, Westin kicked the guard over onto his side and did Hulk Hogan's signature move, the Atomic Leg Drop. The move stopped the last guard immediately, who could only gargle out a few sounds before slipping into unconsciousness.

Breathing loudly, Westin wiped the dirt and sweat from his forehead, "I fuckin' hate cops... even more now."

Ulysses was still wiping blood from his face "This is less than pleasant." He looked over at the shocked Pyrite "Thanks for your help."

The sarcastic remark hit home in Pyrite and she fought the urge to throttle the man, instead settling with a rough berating "What the hay were you two thinking? Do you have any idea how much trouble you two are in? How much trouble I'm in? Why the hay would you rob the store as soon as we got here?"

Ulysses looked over at Westin and then back to Pyrite "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Westin took off his cap and used it to fan himself, "Damn, I thought that would go better. But hey, we got the ducats, an' that's what matters, nigga!"

Pyrite glared at them before shaking her head and sitting on her haunches. She sighed and looked at the guards, shuddering lightly. Perking her head up, the archeologist noticed the two humans leaving and heading around a corner.

She reached out, worried, "Wait! Don't leave without me!"

Pyrite hurried after and followed them down several back alleys and small streets, putting distance between them and the bullet-riddled area. She found them sitting at a table with two ponies she didn't recognize.

The minty green mare with the multicolored mane inhaled and squealed, her hooves to her mouth in excitement, "Wait! So you mean to tell me that you're the real deal? You're really humans? That. Is. So. Cool!"

The other pony, a cream colored mare with a mixed mane, sighed and gave a pleading look to the two men sitting across from them, "Please, calm her down. Lyra gets so obsessed with the myth that-"

The other pony, Lyra, put her hooves to her hips, "Hey! I am not obsessed; I just have a fascination with the stories! And besides, this means I was right! And you know what that means Bon-Bon," she finished with a sly grin.

Bon-Bon held her hoof to her head and mumbled a few words. Lyra extended her head out comically, as if she was trying to get a better chance at hearing.

"What was that? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you!"

Bon-Bon sighed in defeat and spoke out loud, "You were right and I was wrong."

Lyra got close to Bon-Bon's face, "Aaaaand?"

The mare smiled and gave Lyra a peck on the lips, "And humans are real."

The grin on the mint pony's face grew even wider, "Thank you!"

Ulysses groaned inwardly. He absolutely despised social gatherings, especially ones with an overly excited and talkative person or in this case, a pony. Westin seemed quite at home with the attention, but Ulysses was having none of it, simply nodding or smiling distantly in an attempt to fend off the barrage of annoying questions that attempted to dwell into his personal life: An area off limits to anyone but Ulysses himself. Pyrite had commenced sitting with the group and luckily for the quiet man, she hardly spoke, tuning down the amount of words currently being spilled around the table. It was a situation Ulysses found teeth-grinding, but he allowed himself to take on the appearance of a relaxed, if strangely quiet man.

He didn't like sitting around in a town he had just committed a series of crimes in and the idea of waiting for himself to be arrested was maddening to say the least. The minty pony, Lyra, turned her annoying attention to Ulysses once again and he sighed as he opened his ears to the next question.

"So, what about you? What do _you_ like to do?"

The question caught Ulysses off guard and he realized that a mere nodding of the head would not save him here. Forcing a smile onto his face he replied with a strained voice "Oh, you know. Reading, going for a walk. Those sorts of things."

Luckily, the answer was adequate and the talkative unicorn returned her attention to Westin who commenced telling her what his home was like, glorifying it beyond what Ulysses knew as the truth. The other pony, one by the name of Bon-Bon, was beginning to stare at Ulysses and he met her with steady eyes. The earth pony saw something in the eyes, a coldness, a lack of emotion. She hid her shivers and turned away, pretending to look up at the sun. The murmuring of voices joined the already noisy table and Ulysses turned in his seat slightly to find three ponies coming around the corner, eyes locking onto him.

Westin glanced back at the three ponies approaching and turned his head back to Lyra and Bon-Bon.

Westin smiled at the two ponies across from him, "Do me a favor, ight?"

Lyra began to rapidly nod her head, "Anything!"

Bon-Bon placed hoof on her marefriend's shoulder to calm her down, "Excuse me, Mr..."

"Westin."

"Mr. Westin, what exactly do you want us to do? Nothing rash, hopefully?"

Ulysses cut in, "If anyone enquires as to our whereabouts a few minutes ago, my friend and I would greatly appreciate it if you could vouch for us and our presence here the whole time."

Lyra was a bit surprised at Ulysses speaking more than few words, but nodded understandingly, "Okay, that seems pretty easy." Bon-Bon gave her an uneasy look, "What? They seem like decent stallions! We should help our friends!"

Ulysses nodded his thanks and his hand snaked into the bag which was leaning against his leg. By the time the three new ponies had approached, the bag was zipped up and Ulysses had his hands resting comfortably in his lap. Westin had a casual look upon his complexion as well and Ulysses took in the new guests. Two were unicorns, white and purple in color, while the other was a light yellow pegasus who was seemingly quite timid as she hung back, long hair covering her face like a mask.

Westin looked over at Ulysses who indicated that they should remain calm. The purple unicorn approached, obviously the leader of the trio, and Ulysses smiled at her "Can we help you?"

The purple unicorn stepped to the two humans with a look of interest, "Hello, I'm-"

Someone nearby cleared her throat, catching her attention. She turned her head to the pony sitting between the humans and the pair of marefriends, which happened to be a somewhat familiar, tannish pony with black hair adorned with a gold streak.

Pyrite faked a smile, "I'm sorry, we were in the middle of a conversation at the moment."

"Oh, well, if I could just speak to-"

She cut her off, "Please, another time, we're discussing some important matters."

"But-" The purple mare began.

Pyrite turned her head back to the unicorn, "Oh, are you still here?"

Lyra, who was watching the interaction with attention, waved to the mare, "Hi Twilight!"

The mare, Twilight Sparkle, greeted the mint pony back, "Hello there Lyra, and hello Bon-Bon."

Bon-Bon nodded, "How are you, Twilight?"

A frown came across her face, "A bit worried actually. Rainbow Dash and Applejack had to be taken to Ponyville General."

Lyra gasped, "What for?"

Pyrite grinded her teeth in frustration, but kept silent.

"Some creatures robbed Sugarcube Corner and attacked them," Twilight said as she eyed the two humans, who were lounging casually.

Lyra suddenly remember the favor she was asked of earlier, "Twilight, you aren't really thinking that these two did it, do you? Mr. Westin and Mr. Ulysses have been with us the whole time. We've actually been avoiding all those screams together."

A posh, white pony stepped in, "I'm sorry dear, but you tried to ignore screams for help?"

Bon-Bon shrugged, "Lyra's afraid of that kind of stuff. Just last week she-"

The cream mare was cut off by a hoof to her mouth, specifically Lyra's hoof, "You said you'd never repeat what happened! And I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Oh? What about last night with the spider?" Bon-Bon retaliated with a smirk.

"Did you even see the eyes on that thing? It was crazy!"

Twilight waved her hoof to get their attention, "I'm sorry girls, but I won't take up too much of you and your," she glanced back the humans, "friends' time. Did you happen to see anything? At all?" She gave an awkward smile, the best a bookish type as herself could muster under such circumstances.

Both Westin and Ulysses gave looks to Lyra and Bon-Bon, who understood and shook their heads to indicate that they hadn't seen anything that wasn't considered normal, at least in Ponyville.

Pyrite crossed her forelegs and muttered under her breath, "Nerd."

Twilight caught the word and glared at the archeologist, "I'm sorry, and you are?"

She snorted in an unladylike manner, much like Westin would, "It's none of your business."

The purple unicorn frowned, "Is there something that I'm missing here? What seems to be the problem?"

Pyrite used a hoof to gently push Twilight back, just enough to try and intimidate her, "YOU'RE my problem, and I'd appreciate it if you left, NOW."

"And if I don't?"

A scowl formed on Pyrite's mouth, ready to open and yell words before she was cut off by the pearly white pony's overly dramatic gasp.

She nearly swooned, "Oh, Celestia! What is that horrid thing on your back?"

Pyrite blinked, unsure of what she was talking about for a moment. Realization hit her, informing her that the stuck-up mare complaining was directing her indirect insult at her pack. Her jaw began to ache once again from over-clenching, extremely annoyed by what this mare said. The very same pack she was carrying was a present from her late uncle, who had disappeared while on an expedition towards territory north of the Everfree Forest. The pain from the loss was still fresh, despite having happened a decade ago. The fact this ignorant mare had just insulted one of the few physical memories of her beloved uncle was crossing the line.

"Why, you little tramp..."

The mare gasped, "Why, I never! There's no reason to resort to such uncouth words, dear."

Pyrite nearly snarled at her, "How about you go, take your accent, and shove it up your-"

Twilight gasped, "Wait! I know who you are now!" Pyrite could only grumble in response and shift in her seat, "Pyrite! Pyrite Dreams! From Magic Kindergarten, remember? It's me, Twilight Sparkle!"

Pyrite facehoofed, "Yes... I remember..."

Twilight gave a genuine smile, completely forgetting the conversation that just occurred, "How long has it been? How have you been? What do you do now?"

Pyrite glared at the purple unicorn, her words dripping with poison, "Thirteen years, fine, and I'm an archeologist in Canterlot."

"Really? What kind of discoveries have you made?" Twilight asked with intrigue.

Pyrite picked up on that same intrigue and gave a deep scowl, "Listen, I'd really like to play 'catch-up' and 'buddy-buddy', but I have work to do that needs to be addressed immediately."

Twilight's ears fell, sensing the harsh and cruel words, "Pyrite... What happened to you? You weren't like this in Magic Kindergarten..."

"I grew up, okay! I got a job and actually had to work from the bottom-up to where I am today, and even that's not enough, alright? So I'd appreciate it if you butted out of my business and stopped getting in my way!"

Twilight began to squirm slightly from the words directed at her, as if it was her fault, "B-But Pyrite, I just wanted to know how you were-"

Pyrite slammed her hoof on the table, "No! I don't care what you wanted to know! That's all that you ever wanted to do since Magic Kindergarten! Get in other ponies' business and get information like the greedy little foal you are! I swear by Celestia's beard, you were always willing to tattle or snitch on somepony just to get the teacher's affection! That's why you never had any friends, you idiot! Did your parents not love you enough that you had to get it from the teacher? Is that it? You are such a complete-"

"STOP!"

Pyrite blinked, surprised from Twilight's outburst. Still, the surprise wasn't enough to quench her thirst for revenge. She looked at Twilight's now tear-stained face and smile devilishly, relishing in the emotional pain she caused. The deep hatred and lust for revenge was coming full-circle, and all she had to do now was come up with the final string of words that would utterly demolish the bookworm's self-confidence. As she opened her mouth to speak, a yellow pegasus zipped up to her face, staring intensely into Pyrite's eyes. Her mouth fell, letting only a few words sputter out without true form. It was as if a dark cloud was covering her mind, forcing some kind of control over her.

The pegasus put her hooves on her hips and gave a stern look, "How dare you! How dare you insult my friend like that! Who do you think you are, talking to Twilight like that? I don't know what she did to you, but you do not yell at my friends li-"

She blinked and looked to her left. Something tapped her on the shoulder, breaking her concentration, but nothing was there. There was a faint chuckling somewhere nearby that was far deeper than any of the mares'. Pyrite shook her head, clearing the cloud away from her mind. She scowled again and looked straight at the yellow pegasus, fire in her eyes from being subjected to that mind control. The pegasus lowered to the ground, cowering under the gaze of the archeologist and becoming smaller and smaller now that she had lost all the momentum she had built up from watching Pyrite insult her friends. She was now left a whimpering little ball on the ground that quickly scooted behind the white pony, whose jaw was slackened in a most unladylike manner. A look of victory crossed Pyrite's face as she grinned deviously.

The confrontation was intriguing and Ulysses found himself relating the unicorn's behavior towards that of how a human might react. Apparently this equestrian race harbored the same flaws as that of humans. Ulysses' fingers curled gently around the pistol hidden in his lap and he stood up, flourishing slightly as he hid it behind his back as he picked up his bag.

Ulysses nodded at Westin and Pyrite "We should be on our way. This town appears to be rather dangerous." He smiled falsely at Lyra and Bon Bon "Thank you for the hospitality."

Westin stood up, but Twilight's voice broke the awkward silence. Her feelings were still hurt from the series of insults that had been hurled at her but the inquisitive soul within her forced her to ask "If you don't mind, what exactly...are you two?"

Ulysses' heart stopped: He did not want to tell her. Lyra, however, did and she spoke with inane excitement "Human! They're humans!"

Shocked gasps filled the air and the two men winced. The situation was quickly deteriorating. Pyrite spoke up next, eyes fixed with hatred on Twilight "Yeah! Humans! I found them! They're mine!"

Westin and Ulysses exchanged looks, guffawing at the absolute ridiculousness of the declaration. Speaking with quite words, Ulysses' eyes moved between Pyrite and Twilight "You do not own us. Do not make that mistake again."

Twilight was still trying to swallow the information "H-Humans? But they're just myths! Stories told to fillies!"

"And yet here we are. I find your lack of faith disturbing." Ulysses seemed to be dictating the conversation now and his eyes had taken on a coolness, indicating the lack of emotion within.

Westin pulled his cap off and rubbed at his bald head. He recalled the hair spell Pyrite used earlier, which had long since worn off. The ebony man looked back at Twilight, then Pyrite.

He sighed and completely changed the subject without realizing it, "I'm fuckin' tired, let's get outta here already." His stomach grumbled, "That cockamamiedoo was pretty good."

"Cockatrice," Pyrite corrected.

Twilight winced at the language, but gasped, "You ATE a Cockatrice?"

Westin glanced back at Ulysses before raising a brow at Twilight, "Yeah, what of it?"

"Cockatrices are practically surging with a natural alcoholic substance! It's a surprise you didn't die."

Pyrite smirked, "You wouldn't have thought that if you heard things he was saying last night."

Westin glared at her, "Shut it."

She giggled and dismissed it with her hoof, "Fine, fine."

Westin sat back down in a heap, far too tired to bother with any more trivialities such as discussing lost civilizations and ancient myths that had somehow emerged from the ground. Lyra tapped his shoulder with her hoof, getting his attention. He stared at her, waiting for some kind of indication to what she wanted. As if on cue, she pointed to his hat, which he took off and handed to her with some hesitation. She flipped it backwards and wore it, with her horn going through the adjustment hole in the back. Westin laugh uproariously, clearly entertained by the idea of a unicorn wearing a Chicago Bulls cap. The minty unicorn smiled at the approval, which made her marefriend smile as well.

He turned back to Ulysses after wiping away a tear, "What's the plan now?"

Ulysses sighed and looked up at the falling sun before glancing back at Lyra, making use of her over friendly tendencies "I hate to bother you, but you wouldn't happen to have room for two more at your home?"

Bon-Bon seemed about to protest, but Lyra cut her off quickly "Yes! Of course!"

Ulysses smiled but directed his thanks to Bon-Bon in order to reinforce the idea that both he and Westin were decent men, which was untrue, for the most part anyway. The gracious smile made Bon-Bon nod in acceptance and Lyra jumped up in joy, hat flying off her head. Ulysses promptly caught it and passed it to Westin who took it with a nod before placing it upon his head.

Twilight's voice came back into the equation once again and Pyrite bit her tongue in order to keep hot words from spilling from her lips. The purple unicorn ignored her previously unknown rival "How long will you be staying in Ponyville? I would love to speak with you more, both of you that is."

Rarity spoke up suddenly, perhaps catching Ulysses' refined speech "And I as well. You seem rather...intriguing, dear."

A slight blush crossed Rarity's cheeks as Ulysses smiled, hiding the coldness that stemmed from his core. He could care less about spending time with the "Profligates" as he had come to call them. But Ulysses nodded nonetheless. Westin gathered up his bag and the two made to set off towards Lyra and Bon Bon's house, led by an eager Lyra and somewhat reluctant Bon-Bon.

Pyrite stopped them, however, and spoke with anger mixed with reluctance "What about me? You can't be serious about leaving me with HER!"

The final word was directed towards Twilight and was filled with spite. Fluttershy seemed about to stand up for Twilight once again when she noticed the stare that Ulysses watched her with. She backed down almost immediately.

Westin gave a cross between a shudder and exhalation, with his body visibly slumping from the anguish that was a bunch of mares talking. He rubbed at his temples and looked at his two hosts before asking an important question.

He already had the minty unicorn's attention, "Lyra, right?" She nodded quickly, "You got a spare bed for her?" He directed a thumb towards Pyrite.

An uncharacteristic frown crossed her face, "Well, we sorta only have two beds, and you two would probably take up all the room in one, and uh..." She motioned for Westin to kneel down to her level so she could whisper, which he complied to, "I don't think Bon-Bon likes the idea of sharing a bed with somepony we don't know... We tried that once after I -heh- got a bit tipsy at a club..."

She smiled at him, silently hoping that he wouldn't judge her for her own sexual preference. Admittedly, it wasn't looked very well upon in such a region of Equestria for two mares to be in a relationship, but something about the towering human in front of her made her feel accepted.

Westin nodded, "Ight, but I was talking about a couch or somewhere on the floor or something."

Pyrite was about to protest sleeping on the floor when Ulysses shot her a look, effectively quieting her for a bit.

This time, it was Bon-Bon to answer, "Oh yes, we do have a large loveseat, and as it turns out, a floor as well."

Westin laughed, making both Lyra and Bon-Bon smile, "Ight, how big is the loveseat?"

Lyra rolled her eyes playfully as if it were an unnecessary question, but still grinned, "Well pretty big, duh! How else do you think me and Bon-Bon ha-" She was unfortunately cut off by Bon-Bon's hoof, with that hoof connected to a mare blushing a deep shade of red.

She stuttered, "L-Lyra! Y-You can't be saying things like that to ponies!"

Westin ignored the thought on what she was going to say, and focused back on the question at hand, "Big enough for me?" He flexed his right arm, letting the muscles bulge, "I am a pretty big guy."

Lyra checked the dark-skinned man from every angle, taking a few more moments than necessary to look at his backside. She hopped in confirmation, "Yeah! It should be big enough for you!"

Bon-Bon waved a hoof to pause the conversation, "Wait, I thought it was for your friend, Pyrite?"

Pyrite looked at Westin in confusion, "Yeah, I thought I would be sleeping on the couch?"

Westin shrugged, "My moms always did say treat a girl with respect."

Pyrite stomped her hoof in anger, "Then why did you guys do all that stuff when we were at the Catskill Lab?"

Bon-Bon cocked her head to the side, "Uh, what stuff?"

Ulysses cut in, "We obviously didn't realize that you ponies, or mares, were the equivalent to girls. It hardly makes a difference to me either way. What's done is done."

"Seriously, what stuff are you talking about?" Bon-Bon asked once more.

Westin shrugged, "Yeah, how were we supposed to know you weren't some freaky ass alien or somethin'?"

Bon-Bon lost most of her will to even bother asking, "Fine, maybe we're better off not knowing."

Pyrite sighed in defeat, "Fine... But it's fine, really. I'll take the loveseat."

Westin stopped her there, "Nah, I'll use it. Besides Boo, I'd rather have you and this nigga over here in the same bed together, ya know, gettin' romantic an' shit."

Ulysses' normally calm expression turned sour towards Westin. He was staring daggers at the man who was grinning wildly.

Ulysses muttered something his breath, but Westin simply moved in place with his pearly-white grin, dancing and mouthing, "You mad! You mad!"

Ulysses fought the urge to strangle Westin, but nodded as Lyra tugged on his pants with her hoof. The three followed the two marefriends, leaving behind the two unicorns and pegasus at the table. Ulysses grabbed his MP7A1 before their departure making his way back to the alley quickly and stowing it away in his bag. The guards were still unconscious and judging by their injuries, they'd be out of it for a while. Ulysses rejoined the group and they made their way through only a few backstreets before reaching the cozy little house.

* * *

><p>Ulysses sat calmly in his chair, glass of lemonade against his lips. He set it down and leaned forward, a hissing whisper directed towards Westin "We can't stay for long. One of these...ponies is bound to recognize us by tomorrow."<p>

Westin looked back at the snoring Pyrite, who had fallen asleep on the couch, "... I can't believe this shit man... What the fuck happened to everyone? Everything?"

"Three thousand years...all that time wasted and gone." Ulysses pointed at Pyrite "They took everything we ever built, ripped it down."

Westin's voice cracked slightly as he said his next few words, "Chicago, gone... Everyone I knew, gone... They just-just built right over our own graves, man."

Ulysses' hand tightened on the glass of lemonade, fighting the rage "Every single country paved over like an open field. What we did today, Westin, they deserved it." He paused in his speech, eyes locking onto Westin "Next time I won't miss."

Westin glared at the cupcake in his hands, wanting to crush it into dust, "I know, I know." He leaned in close, unknowingly bearing his teeth as he spoke with hatred and tenseness, "That's why we need to get back into that fucking place!"

"Everything we ever knew, everything left is down there! If we get back in, we can rise back. We can take back every single thing these...criminals stole." Pyrite jumped slightly, shifting in her sleep. Ulysses motioned that they should lower their voices.

"I want my sister back first!" Westin hissed, "Whoever the fuck that JFK nigga is, we're going to kill him, then see if there's anyone else there. We need niggas on our side, because we got lucky today. Those cops coulda got us locked up, and if we killed them, we woulda been fucked." He put the cupcake down and stared into Ulysses' eyes, "These niggas think they can replace us? Us? I'm takin' whatever I want, and none of them are going to stop me. They fuckin' stole enough from us as is, and they ain't gettin' any back! They want it, they're gonna have to come get it from us like the mothafuckin' Red Cross!"

Ulysses nodded "We get her back, will kill that JFK impersonator, and we build everything back up. They paved over our graves, our cities, and our families. They built and forgot about us. They squandered our glory and erased our names. Now, well now, we're going to burn them to the ground. Are you with me, Westin?" Ulysses hand travelled across the table, offering a handshake of sorts.

Westin, a man of passion for his own kind, grinned his devilish grin and shook Ulysses' hand firmly, "They won't see us coming..." His mood grew slightly somber, "I got a question though..."

"Ask it."

"Whaddya lose?"

Ulysses smiled "Nothing and everything."

Westin wasn't able to share that with him, "It's easier that way, ain't it? Had nothing to ya, now all you have to fight for is yo'self and revenge."

"Who were you before all this, Westin?" Ulysses clasped his hands together in waiting.

Westin stayed silent for a moment, "... Just some nigga from Chi-City. Lived in the projects for a bit before I moved to an actual house. Would ya believe me if I told you I was smart as hell? It's true... but that shit wasn't what I wanted. You had to work under the government's rules to be successful, right? Nah, I wanted something else... I dealt some drugs, mostly small time shit like piff or crack. Maybe some percs if I was feelin' it. Still, nigga, money was my dream."

Ulysses shook his head "I can see you're intelligent. You marked that cafe without a second glance and we have the money. Doesn't do me much good, it's all yours if you want it. And government? No, that was never something I followed. I'm surprised that my reputation doesn't proceed me. Well, when I think about it, Chicago was fairly far away from my area of operations."

Westin shook his head, "A rep. What was yours for?"

"Murder. Seven families of four."

Westin nodded, as if it were normal, and smiled, "Bet you're wishin' they were here now, right?"

Ulysses shrugged broadly "I would bring them back if I could. I'd probably kill them again too. It hardly matters in any event. They won't be coming back.

He ran his hands down his face, "That's cool... I miss 'em though. My family, my boys, every single one of 'em."

"I can't blame you. My family died long before the IIDV hit though. Friends...I miss them too."

"Those guys... They'd never turn they back on you, not a chance. All of us... chillin', day in, day out... That's the kind of shit that brings niggas togetha."

Ulysses nodded in agreement "They would never leave you. Let's get back on track. We leave tomorrow. I don't know where, but we leave at first light."

Westin rubbed his left eye lazily, "Then we better get to sleep." He looked to Pyrite and grinned, "Go ahead, Romeo, take her to bed with you."

"The idea of sleeping with her is less than appealing." Ulysses sighed, "Goodnight, Westin. Remember, tomorrow at first light. Any longer and we risk capture."

Westin waved him off as he handed Pyrite to him, "Yeah, sure, less than appealing. Night, nigga, don't let the ponies bite."

Ulysses muttered under his breath and cradled the sleeping archeologist rather crudely as he located the bed in the dark, stumbling over miscellaneous items in the blackness on his way to the guest room. Pyrite regained some form of consciousness and spoke with a lethargic voice "Where...w-whats going on?"

Ulysses lay her down on the large bed, and tossed some blankets over her without much thought. Sliding out of his turtle neck, Ulysses kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed opting to lie above the covers. His mind was beginning to shut down when Pyrite's tired voice made his mind kick back into action.

"Ulysses?"

"Yes, Pyrite?"

"Aren't you going to get under the blankets?" There might have been a hint of seductiveness in the question, but Ulysses ignored the thought.

He spoke quietly "Go to sleep."

The unicorn grumbled and pulled the covers over herself, dragging sleep with her. Ulysses sighed and laid his head back comfortably. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and he needed his rest.

Ulysses, along with Pyrite, was disturbed by the sound of an impact and the muttering of curses. As it turned out, Westin stubbed his toe on the table from earlier on his way to the loveseat. He slowly limped onto it, keeping noise as minimal as possible for his hosts. Grumbling, the ebony man blended into the night, yet couldn't fall asleep despite the amazing comfort of the loveseat. Somehow, he knew Ulysses was undergoing the same thing. Both of their minds were riddled with thoughts on what had occurred in what they thought was only a day. It was a scary, scary thing to know that the world you grew up in was nothing but faded memories now.

Both knew they weren't going to get much sleep that night.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

President's Day chapter? President's Day chapter. Not much to say, but I should probably elaborate on a few things.

Westin and Ulysses aren't _prisoners_, at least, not in the sense that they've went to trial etc., but they were detained for research purposes due to their green eyes. Prologue should explain why that's important and shit. It's been roughly 3,500 years since then, and all surface evidence of humanity is gone. Also, to Zeromaru1011, I believe a character's dialogue is what brings life to the character. If they're dialogue is uninteresting, they're fairly uninteresting as well. The reason why there's so much cursing (Rick from Stasis, Westin from here, specifically) is because I've based their speech off of real life people that I know. The way they speak is directly taken and inspired by said people, who've I've also taken other things from. Anyway, that's enough of that.

Well, that should be it. Lucius doesn't have anything to say for this chapter, sorry.

As always,

Stay Trilla.


	5. Chapter 5

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Four: First and Best Friends**

* * *

><p>"Daddy?"<p>

The claw swiveled and affectionately rubbed at the cheek of the mannequin head, "Yes?"

"What are we doing now?"

The mannequin, now converted into a fully-capable dummy of sorts, looked upwards, staring at the thing it called its father. The circular, red eye was glowing in the light-deprived manufacturing lab, constant and vigil in front of its children. The dummy stared back at the floor almost immediately, fearful for disrespecting its father by looking at him. The claw lifted the head back up and laid itself on the shoulder of the manikin in an almost fatherly type way.

"We take what we deserve, at any cost."

The child's singular face remained unchanged, despite the obvious curiosity, "What do we deserve, at any cost?"

The eye glinted slightly, as if deciding what had pushed it beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations "The world in the grasp of a perfect race."

"What race?" The mannequin tilted its head with everlasting curiosity.

"You, my child. All of you."

The answer was sufficient and the strangely mutated mannequin returned to its duties. The eye watched it for a moment, fascinated by what it had created, but soon it turned its sweeping attention to the manufacturing lab around it. Long metal tables were aligned in rows, fluorescent bulbs glowing with sickly artificial light above, illuminating the tables and the hundreds of parts that lay scattered around aimlessly. In several spots around the large room, welding was taking place, flurries of sparks jumping and swirling in the air. Several more mannequins, now capable of movement and speech, were putting together their brothers and sisters, molding them into the perfect race.

It was a demented scene of mutilation, a twisted form of wrongful creation. Whatever materials had been scavenged were put into creating more and more of the oddly disturbing robots. Pipes, prosthetic limbs, and of course, mannequin bodies, were all being contorted and made into walking horrors of an insane industrial mind. The chattering voices of the creations drifted about like those of lost children, noise burrowing into the very walls of the lab.

Another "child" stepped forward to the eye, this one different from its brothers and sisters. It was specifically ordered that this one, this far more advanced specimen, would be made. It used no rag-tag parts or scraps, but was simply constructed from the high-quality metal lying around the far back of the lab. The best resources were poured into this child, leaving it much more evolved than any other. The eye looked down upon it, and the robotic dummy stepped back in nervousness.

"Do you know why I created you?"

It shuffled its feet, "N-No, father..."

"Samuel."

The robot looked upwards, "Dad?"

"You are now named Samuel, my son."

The claw swooped down and patted the robot on the head, earning a synthetic smile from the child. Had the eye had true emotions, it would be bursting with pride. Its work, its oil, its ideas, was all standing right there. It looked around at its creations. Truly masterpieces and works of art. They buzzed around, talking with each other and conversing as children do. They were truly beautiful to the eye, and he was determined to give them a proper home.

The eye looked back down at the robot and shooed it away, "Go and enjoy yourself, son."

It began its uneasy steps to the group of manikins, giving a glance back to the father who constructed him, "Bye, papa!"

The eye simply stared after it, "Goodbye."

* * *

><p>Ulysses awoke with a quiet inhalation of air. His eyes looked at the ceiling above him, a white, plaster-type material, slightly illuminated by the early rays of sunlight. Ulysses didn't know what had awoken him other than a sense that it was time to awake from the short slumber. His hand slowly crawled out from under a nearby pillow, leaving the pistol underneath it. Westin snored peacefully nearby and the house seemed quite apart from the other human. Lifting his head slightly, Ulysses looked at his immediate area. Pyrite slept comfortably next to him, arm over his chest. Ulysses pushed it off in disgust, face scrunching up angrily.<p>

His feet pressed against the cold floor, bare skin fighting against the low temperatures contained within the hardwood. Clad in his shirt and jeans, Ulysses felt the need for a shower, but he knew that he would have to wait for such a luxury. Pyrite shifted in her sleep and the pale man glanced over before pulling on his turtle neck. Next came the heavy Kevlar vest which fit snugly over his torso. The light of the morning seemed more gray than yellow and invoked a sense of being forlorn over Ulysses. Pulling the pistol from its cushioned depths, Ulysses took a minute to examine the precise killing machine. It was a grey metal, reminiscent of a faded black. Scratches and dints decorated the smooth steel and the rough grip rubbed comfortably against Ulysses' hand.

He tucked it into its usual place and tightened his belt, pulling the bottom of the turtle neck over the exposed handle. Pyrite yawned loudly and opened her bleary eyes, looking up at the quiet Ulysses who turned his head slightly, an eyebrow raised in question: his most expressive visage yet. She opened her mouth to say something, a delicate smile on her face when a loud knocking came from the front door.

"Royal Guards! Open up!"

Ulysses had his pistol out in a flash and Westin quickly joined his partner in the room, weapon in hand. They moved quietly down the hallway, gesturing for Pyrite to stay put.

The two crept towards the kitchen table they had sat at earlier and ducked down, right after flipping it carefully towards the door, making sure not to make a noise.

Westin looked over the edge and at the door, which received another barrage of knocks, "Royal Guards? As in cops?"

Ulysses shrugged, whispering back "Should we take care of them?"

As if on cue, Lyra opened the door to her room and stepped out sleepily. She rubbed at her eyes for a good moment, mumbling and teetering half-asleep. Another series of knocks released the "morning-pony" inside of her.

"I'M COMING!"

She groggily passed the kitchen, not paying the humans who watched her in bewilderment any mind. That is, until she slowly trotted backwards and stared at them hiding behind a flipped table. Her mane was in a complete mess, and as she cocked her head to the side in confusion, she spoke to her two new friends.

"Are you two eating breakfast down there?"

Westin shook his head in amusement, but didn't respond.

"If you could answer the door and buy us some time, we'd greatly appreciate it." Ulysses spoke with a quiet voice, but it was not a request.

Lyra nodded slowly, understanding the situation. She headed for the door as another barrage of slamming echoed from it. Ulysses and Westin flipped the table back into its usual position and grabbed their bags from the nearby countertop. Coins, bullets, and weapons jingled within and Ulysses headed for the bedroom, motioning to Pyrite that it was time to go. The door could be heard creaking open and Westin scurried down the hall, tossing Ulysses his shoes as he pulled on his own. Westin must have retrieved his vest as he had returned to grab the shoes as the weighty, bulletproof attire was now upon his chest.

Pulling on the footwear, Ulysses moved down the hallway and into Lyra's bedroom which was shared with a half-awake Bon-Bon who looked at them with suspicion. Ulysses entered the room and knelt down near the bed, voice quiet as Lyra began to stall the guards.

"Back door?" The ivory man's voice was low yet powerful and Bon-Bon nodded.

"Down the hall and to the right."

Ulysses nodded his thanks, but Westin was already moving, sensing the directions despite the fact he had not heard them.

Westin, although never having broken into a house (at least, not for burglary), found the idea of breaking out of one ironic. Still, after some jimmying, the door was opened and provided a direct and clear route to the nearby forest. Ulysses came out and nodded, ready to begin the run. The three sprinted, or galloped in Pyrite's case, to the edge of the Everfree Forest, a dark and dangerous area littered with creatures of ill intent. Each hid behind a tree and looked back, spying the guards checking out more houses.

Pyrite peeked her head out and glared at the two men, "You see? You see what happens when you cause trouble? THIS! This is what happens!"

Westin shrugged, "I prolly need a shower."

She facehoofed, "That's your response?"

"You wanna go fight them?" He questioned in curiosity.

Her face fell and was soon replaced by something much angrier, "Don't be such an idiot! They're Royal Guards! They're probably armed!"

The man rolled his eyes, but dropped the conversation.

Ulysses adjusted his heavy backpack and tightened the vest which was covering his torso. The pistol snaked back to its place and he took a moment to look at the forest he had just escaped from yesterday. It was a dark and forbidding place, hiding insanity among its knotted vines and twisted trees. A river flowed nearby, mangrove trees clutching at the muddy banks with desperation fueled by the need to survive. The image of mangled roots jutting out from rotting plant matter created a strange feeling of hopeless spurred by the fact that even nature struggled to survive here.

Shuddering, Ulysses crouched down, and, with careful movements, watched the town of Ponyville. Yells of indignation and anger filled the air, most likely brought on by the fact that law enforcement was waking people up at five in the morning. Westin yawned loudly, all the while ignoring Pyrite and her upset grumbling about being a fugitive and how she was stuck with criminals.

Ulysses looked over at her "Where shall we go? I'm fairly certain that we won't be returning here."

Pyrite looked at him with determined eyes "Canterlot." She turned to look at Westin and then back to Ulysses "Both of you are coming to Canterlot with me."

Raising an eyebrow, Ulysses looked at Westin expectantly.

Westin shrugged, "I'm not gonna say it's a bad idea, but it's a bad idea. To walk right into some place with the cops lookin' for us, is whatta mean."

Pyrite's face fell, "Listen, I can still salvage the situation if you come with me. I can convince the Princesses that you two weren't in your right state of mind... Which is pretty true, but that's not the point. If I bring you two back as proof, there won't be a need for anypony to hunt you down. I'm sure they'll forgive us for what we did!"

"What you did?"

She gave a light blush, something that contrasted her usually tomboyish attitude, "Well, I may have ignored the Princesses and went looking for that place I found you in against their decree. That's... kind of like treason. But! I'm sure she'll forget all about it once we've gotten to Canterlot and prove I was right!"

Ulysses shook his head "I don't agree with this."

Pyrite grew angry "And why not?"

"If we go to this Canterlot, I have little doubt in my mind that your Princesses would place Westin and I in prison and force us to reveal the location of that facility to them for their own gain." Pyrite seemed about to protest when Ulysses cut her off with a cold voice "Do you truly believe that they will credit you with that discovery? Do you believe that they'll let you show off that technology to the world? No, they won't and it's all because of a simple notion, if you will."

Ulysses looked at Westin "Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Westin nodded, "How about..." He held out his hand and gave a smile, "We take all of that shit for ourselves? Let's show 'em what we got, personally."

Pulling himself to his feet with Westin's help, Ulysses nodded "I agree with THAT."

The other man smirked, "Ight, so it's decided then, we about to go 'borrow' some shit from Uncle Sam. His petrified, old-ass self won't mind us using some of his junk."

"But you can't! That door's locked and there's no other way in!" Pyrite spouted out.

"We'll find a way in. Bust some shit and bring down the doors."

She was becoming increasingly frustrated with her two human companions, "T-That doesn't even make sense! Those doors are probably made out of over a foot of steel!"

"Uhh, no one cares, Girl."

Ulysses looked at Pyrite. His eyes flickered over her body and she blushed lightly, thinking that he was looking at her as if interested in her appearance. Ulysses' eyes stopped on her head, traveling to the point of her horn.

"You're coming with us."

She shook her head furiously "No way! You two have already gotten me involved in a robbery and two beatings! I am not going to be part of your...your little demolition plan!"

"Oh. That's quite alright. Westin and I will be off than. It was a pleasure meeting you." Ulysses nodded his head back towards the forest and the men set off.

Pyrite watched them for a moment before sighing and calling out "Wait!"

Westin turned his head, "Yeeessss?"

She rolled her eyes, "You two don't even know where the facility is, so how do you plan on finding it?"

He tapped the side of his head, "Memory."

The unicorn guffawed, "You? Memory? As if."

"Yeah, well you ain't got shit to stop us, so hah!"

Thinking it over, she prodded through her mind, looking for a reason or reward in mind, "What's in it for me if I help you?"

Ulysses looked at the determined and slightly annoying archeologist "That is a question with a broad spectrum of answers. Technology, information, knowledge. Do you require any more than that?"

"As a matter of fact I do."

"And what would that be?"

"A guarantee."

Raising an eye curiously, Ulysses looked at Pyrite "A guarantee for what exactly?"

The unicorn spoke with flinty determination "A guarantee that I'll receive those things and more."

Ulysses looked at Westin who nodded reluctantly. Turning his attention back to Pyrite, Ulysses smiled genuinely "Fine."

With that, the group grabbed their backpacks and began their journey back, towards the impromptu salvation that awaited them somewhere deep in the forest.

* * *

><p>Finding their way through was a tedious task, but it proved to be somewhat tolerable, despite the harsh climate. Ulysses wiped the sweat off of his brow while Pyrite and Westin both took a swig of their water. They sat against a few tree for a moment, getting their short rest while they could. It was surprisingly quiet for a few moments, something that unnerved the black man. A rustling nearby forced each of their heads towards its general direction, which happened to be a cluster of bushes. Both humans pulled out their guns, ready to fight once more. What they saw surprised them somewhat. Three dogs of differing heights stepped out from the bushes, their tails wagging in the breeze. They walked on two legs, much like the humans, and when they spotted said humans, they immediately stopped in their tracks and became wide-eyed.<p>

They began to whisper among themselves, which eventually turned to rough shouting and shoving. It soon died down as they glanced back at the group in front of them. The pony and humans exchanged looks after another round of shoving, the dog creatures bowed before the humans. It proved to be an interesting, if not confusing sight, but Westin took it well.

He pointed at them with his thumb, "Yo, who let the dogs out?"

Ulysses looked down at the bowing canines and glanced over at Westin, speaking with an amused voice "They hold us in high regard, do they not?"

"I don't blame 'em. I just command respect like that an' shit."

The dogs stood at attention, ready to be given orders. The sheer oddness of the situation was evident on the faces of the humans, but even more so on Pyrite's. She looked between the two men before shrugging.

"I guess they must really like you."

One of the dogs, a medium sized one, growled at the mare, clearly distraught by her speaking.

Ulysses' eyes flickered over the mangy trio, judging them on their ragtag appearance "Your names?"

The shortest responded with, "Spot."

The medium dog brushed some dirt off of his vest, "Rover."

The largest and most hunched one pointed at himself, "Fido."

Westin patted himself with both hands and deliberately spoke slowly, "Weesst-iinnn. We cool, okay, dawgs?"

Ulysses looked over at Westin "They can't be incredibly dense. They speak with more respect than you ever have."

He snorted in response, "Because man's best friend recognizes." Westin turned to the dogs, "You're dogs right? Maybe some other type of shit..."

The middle one, Rover, wagged his tail and stepped closer, "Yes! Diamond Dogs!"

Westin grinned, "Diamond Dawgs! Shit! That sounds pimpin' as fuck! I know you guys aren't racist, because all ya diamonds are probably Caucasian."

"They're not my best friends." Ulysses looked at the filthy canines "Well? You are dogs, correct?"

They all nodded quickly in unison.

Taking a step back in disgust, Ulysses took a moment to examine the trio in front of him. They wore vests, embedded with precious and semi-precious stones which acted as a tribute to their prowess with regarding their ability to recover gems.

"Why do you show us such respect?" Ulysses voice cut like a blade and the dogs perked up in response.

The lumbering Fido gave a sloppy smile, "You're humans!"

Westin crossed his arms, "Yeah, and?"

Spot was hopping in excitement, "Yes! The Prophecy! The Prophecy! Humans!"

Pyrite was about to speak before getting cut off by Westin, "I don't trust that shit! Last time I did, that voodoo bitch in Queens started doing some creepy ass shit and I woke up a- Nah, never mind, I'm still traumatized over what happened."

The archeologist looked up to him in genuine curiosity, "What happened?"

His face faltered and he frowned, "Some serious shit went down that day..."

Ulysses sighed and stopped Pyrite as she went ask her question again "As to why you went wandering about in Queens and decided to partake in intercourse with a gypsy is quite beyond me." Pyrite went to interrupt when Ulysses cut her off again "Let it lie, little pony. Now, what prophecy are you speaking about?"

Westin glared at the other human, "I didn't fuck the bitch, she almost stole my kidneys or some shit! Dumb bitch got strong-armed though, serves her right..." He looked back at the dogs, "Ey yo dawgs, tell us about this shit already."

Rover pushed his paws together and grinned, "Humans are mythical creatures! True friends of the Dogs! Since the dawn of time, they have stayed side-by-side and worked together! The Prophecy declares we'd share meals once again!"

Fido's tail began to wag uncontrollably, "Meals! Again!"

The smaller Spot looked up to the humans, "Please, you must come with us! We must bring you to the Alpha! He will know what to do!"

"Westin! Did you hear that! Sharing meals together! Oh the joy!" The sarcasm of the sentence caused Westin to chuckle although the joke was taken seriously by the Diamond Dogs who smiled and wagged their tails accordingly.

Speaking with tiredness, Ulysses nodded "Very well, take us to this...alpha."

The ivory man's companions seemed skeptical and Ulysses looked at them with a raised eyebrow "Do you have any superior ideas? I have little doubt that the law enforcement agencies we eluded earlier are going to be tracking us."

Pyrite spoke up, "Hey! It might be dangerous! Besides, Diamond Dogs are known to try and enslave ponies. Ponies are usually able to outsmart them, but still!"

Fido growled at the unicorn and stepped closer to her, ready to strike her down for her insolence. Before he was able to do that, Westin smacked him across the nose, sending the large dog yelping back to his comrades.

Westin gave a disgusted look, "Fuckin' slaves? Over three thousand fucking years and we still got this shit? A motherfucking shame." He looked over the whimpering Fido and pointed at the dogs, "You touch her and I'll smack the living shit outta each and every one of you, got that shit?" They nodded vigorously, "Good, let's get the fuck outta here."

The dogs slowly regained their happiness and lead the way through the forest, chatting to themselves giddily. Pyrite trotted up to Westin and looked up to him with a smile.

"Thanks for that, I appreciate it."

He smiled, but didn't look at her, "Yeah, well that shit they pull is fucked up." He exhaled, "Slavery is a fucking disease, and that shit ain't right. People-" he looked at Pyrite and raised an eyebrow before continuing, "or ponies, have rights an' shit. We didn't fight for that shit for it to be taken away by some scum-ass mothafuckas."

She nodded, not entirely sure what he was referencing but understanding he was somewhat sensitive about it, "Well, thanks again. Really."

"Mmhmm."

The mixed group continued, with the Diamond Dogs leading the way to their abode.

* * *

><p>Mining, despite the absence of humans over the years, had continued its destructive tendencies and practices, marring the face of the land beyond recognition. Huge barren patches of earth, gravel pits, rotting scaffolding, and an overall impression of somberness plagued what appeared to be the Diamond Dog's home. It was a filthy place, canyons and cliff faces speckled with tunnels and caves, creating a mighty labyrinth which ran its veins throughout the landscape.<p>

Ulysses muttered under his breath as he attempted to avoid the pools of crude oil and patches of darkened mud which threatened to pull the man into their disease-ridden depths. Westin had taken to carrying Pyrite who, with her hooves, became stuck several times in the filth, slowing progress to a near standstill as they neared what appeared to be the hub of the mining operation.

The Diamond Dogs appeared quite at home in the muck and dead plants, smiling and looking around with glee. Ulysses looked around in disgust as more and more digging canines began to show up, working and hauling materials. They stopped in their tracks, eyes wide as they took in what they had often thought of as ghosts. Their surprise didn't last long, however, and the other workers began to bow to their "gods".

Westin obviously enjoyed the treatment and respect he commanded from his simple presence and an amused grin kept its place upon his complexion. Soon the group of six entered the mouth of a cave. It was larger than the other surrounding entrances and it invoked a sense of pent up anger and hate, created from backbreaking work and a hard and unrelenting dictatorship. Torches and rusted railway tracks peppered the inside of the cave and workers stopped, bowing in respect.

The orange light of the makeshift torches cast a strange glow over the area and a feeling of inescapability seemed to have been enforced upon the once beautiful landscape. The tunnel began to split up into several smaller ones and carts, packed with raw minerals, cruised slowly down the tracks in several areas. These tunnels were of little importance to the group, however, and what attracted their full attention was a large set of wooden doors just ahead.

The three Diamond Dogs pushed open the aforementioned doors for the humans and pony, who had been set back down on the stable ground. Ulysses squinted as golden light washed out from the entrance, blinding the trio momentarily. A room, obviously more refined than the area outside, greeted the companions and they stepped forth. Worn wooden planks covered the roughly carved stone walls and a large rug led up towards what appeared to be a throne carved from marble and granite. Hundreds of candles and lanterns covered the floor near it, creating an almost cult-like appearance.

Another dog leaned with his back turned on the throne, evidently the leader of the operation. He was pitch-black in color. Numerous bracelets and necklaces covered him, diamonds and rubies glittering lavishly in the light.

Rover pressed his paws together, an odd habit, again and spoke, "Alpha, we have brought the mo-"

The decorated leader didn't turn his back but raised an arm, silencing his inferior, "I know."

This Diamond Dog was quite different from the others in noticeable ways. The refined accent and speech along with the well-made crimson vest seemed to symbolize a role of leadership and respect. The jet black dog stared forward, not speaking for a few moments and pondering his own collected thoughts. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, calming himself and making the three dogs feel tense. He finally cut the tension by turning to speak.

"Our Oracle, Lassie, spoke of this day. I... wasn't very sure to believe in it or not, and as you will come to know, I am quite the skeptical dog. Yet, she was right and you three stand before me." He noticed the odd look from Pyrite, "Yes, even you, the archeologist, was prophesied as freeing the humans from their eternal imprisonment. We've waited countless millennia for this single day to pass, and now that it has come, I can't help but feel... complete." The leader stepped down from his throne and stood at the height of the humans, "We were once so very close, and we stood by your side until the very end. Even when many others turned against the mythical humans, we fought alongside you and did our best to protect you." The leader turned his head away from the humans guiltily, "I apologize for our kind failing you in your time of need, but we are here now, ready to help our masters once again. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Adjule, Alpha of this Dog Colony. As you can see, we specialize in gem and resource retrieval and delivery of it to our other Colonies. We are fairly large in number, but we lack proper organization at times. But enough of such trivial things... I must know, what may I call my new and esteemed guests?"

Ulysses noticed the refined speech and respectable manners and bowed his head slightly "I am Ulysses. This is Westin, and Pyrite Dreams, the one responsible for our freedom." Ulysses pointed at each of his accomplices as he spoke their names before returning his attention to Adjule "Our thanks for allowing us entry into your home."

The large dog waved his paw, "No, no, thank you. Today is a new day, one that will be marked down in history for generations- No, millennia to come! The day humans and dogs can once again become a cohesive force and bring ultimate glory to our kinds! Together, we shall remove the defilers and assist you in any way possible. Please, we are at your service. But before anything, I humbly request you feast with us."

"A meal! Together!" Fido shouted out, gaining the attention of each being in the room.

Adjule deflated slightly and rubbed a paw tiredly at one of his eyes, "Yes... a meal..." He looked back to the humans with a friendly smile, "We'll provide our finest foods and the likes. I can imagine that your diet of bovine and fowl hasn't changed?" Pyrite gave him an uneasy look, "And of course, our great emancipator shall receive food proper of her kind as well. We'll take great care in preparing it, that each of you can be assured of."

Westin nodded, "I could go for something to eat."

Ulysses spoke with a simple smile, one of genuine appreciation "It is a true pleasure to meet someone who remembers us. We had begun to believe we had been forgotten entirely. The cooperation between us may aid my partners and I greatly later on." Ulysses noticed a look of enquiry upon Adjule's face "Fret not, my friend. All shall be explained over dinner, an invite which we humbly accept."

* * *

><p>"A toast! To the return of those who the world forgot! Those who will soon rise again! Those who shall succeed in all their endeavors, just as it was prophesied and just it was done for thousands of years before by our kinds! To human and dog-kind!"<p>

Cheering echoed through the caverns as each occupant feasted on food fit for kings. Dozens upon dozens of tables were set on the floor of the vast, surprisingly clean area. Some dogs were dining with their mouths slobbering, and others in a more refined fashion that required utensils. In the middle laid a much smaller table than the rest, and at that table sat the two humans, the pony, and three Diamond Dogs. Two new ones had been seated alongside Adjule and he seemed to hold them fairly high and close to himself as he introduced them after finishing his short toast.

He laid a paw on the brown and white, hairier female next to him, "This is the Oracle I mentioned earlier, Lassie. She's the one who saw your approach and came to me weeks ago during her sleepless nights. She thought her dreams were at first being haunted by images of ancient myths, but after discussing and researching it, we were able to piece together that what we were seeing were you three. Her visions have yet to fail us before, and they have kept her up countless times. But since yesterday, she's been able to sleep rather well. It seems the Prophecy is going as foretold after all."

The collie nodded in appreciation and spoke in an accent reminiscent of the people of Northern England, "Thank you, Adjule." She smiled at the humans and pony, "As you know, I am the Oracle of this Colony. It... It isn't easy seeing the future and knowing there are some dangers you cannot prevent, but when we figured out that humans would walk this planet again... We were overjoyed. Truly. There has never been news such as this before, and as such, we are going to contact other Colonies and the Prime Alpha to request assistance in helping you. Until then, we'd like to have you as our guests and friends." The Diamond Dog looked down, embarrassed, "I believe that's all I have to say for now, so..."

Adjule caught on and nodded, "Yes, yes, our Lassie has always been quite meek around guests, but she's holding up surprisingly well for now." He smirked when he saw her blush and look away, "As I was saying previously, another introduction is in order. This," He placed a paw on a leopard-skinned pitbull, "is Jacque Brutus, my trusted advisor and personal friend. Please, introduce yourself."

The pitbull spoke in a deep and gruff voice that held power in each word, "I thank you friends for gracing us with your presence. It is truly a magnificent moment to know that we shall make both our ancestors proud by returning greatness to our species. I know that together, we shall be able to conquer all obstacles and reestablish humanity as a chief force on the planet. I know a fair amount regarding warfare, diplomacy and the such, should any of it become necessary that is." He proudly hit his chest with his paw, "Please, if there is anything you require, I myself am at your service, as are many others here with us. Our kinds were intertwined for thousands of years, and now we can become so once again." He smiled at the guests and used a paw to present the food, "My friends, please, feast to your heart's content and be merry, for we are together once more."

Ulysses gently forked a piece of chicken into his mouth, tasting it with an air of respectability. It was well seasoned and although slightly dry, it was quite good and he mixed another piece with some lightly buttered asparagus. Delighted with the flavors, Ulysses turned his attention to the pitbull, Jacque.

"Tell me, Jacque, of these Equestrians. Are they in total control of the land now?"

Jacque nodded slightly, voice still gruff yet clear "I'm afraid so. They were the first to rise against you and your kind. They took over cities and continents, demolishing what they wished and keeping what they wanted." Pyrite was ready to dispute these claims when Ulysses held up a hand, indicating her silence. Jacque continued on "You may remember Manhattan and Philadelphia. These two cities were the first to be adapted by the Equestrians. They disgraced them, changing their names into Manehatten and Fillydelphia, honoring their own race and tossing the human name into the gutter like trash."

Pyrite quickly became livid at the accusations, pointing her hoof at Jacque "That's a lie! Those cities are Equestrian and always have been! How dare you say otherwise!"

Ulysses calmed her quickly and looked at the fuming archeologist with dead eyes "Perhaps you are blind to the fact that every single thing your race claims to have invented was designed and produced by humans first. Your houses, designed by us, your clothing, designed by us, your entire material world was created by us. Now, quiet yourself."

Westin laid his downs onto the table and stared at Jacque, "Chicago. What did they do to Chicago?"

The three Dogs seemed to shift in their seats at the name. His eyes darted between the three before settling back on Jacque.

The pitbull cleared his throat, "Chicago has long been destroyed by their paws. Nothing remains as evidence of its existence, as far as we know. Very few human cities remain and were converted, and even then they just barely retain any sort of humanity in them. Things have changed, my friend."

Westin glared at the Dog for a few moments before continuing, "You're fucking joking, right? Those motherfuckers didn't kill my hometown, right? All my boys didn't just fucking get their graves spat on, right? Right?"

"I'm sorry, but-"

He slammed his fist into the table, eliciting stares from other tables, "No! They aren't going to get away with this shit! They aren't going to fuckin' do this shit to us and not pay!"

Lassie reached a paw out to comfort him, but she immediately retracted it when he glared at her, "P-Please, this isn't going to chan-"

"It ain't? I'm going to fucking change some shit myself then!"

Adjule tapped a paw against the table, getting the man's attention, "Listen, we know how you feel. We've been losing Colonies recently and none of us can find out why. Those Princesses seem to have something to do with it, but we don't have any evidence. Just know that we might just be in our own decline soon, but that's going to change, friend, it's going to change. We'll help you get your revenge, and we'll do it without a second thought. We've always helped each other in our times of need, and we shall never forget that. Please though, friend, calm down for the sake of others."

Westin, still fuming, nodded, "Ight, ight... Sorry for losin' my shit, but that's the kind of stuff that gets a nigga riled up, ya know?"

Ulysses had finished his meal by the time Westin had ceased his cursing and disruptiveness. A sudden question entered Ulysses' head and he glanced over at Lassie who met his eyes at first before glancing away. Ulysses seemed to have that effect on everything he stared at, but it hardly kept him from asking his question.

"Are there other races? Ones beside the Equestrian majority?"

Lassie nodded slowly "Three are four main races, although there are smaller branches of more secluded creatures. Would you have me tell you the names of the four races?" Ulysses nodded and Lassie continued "There are, of course, the Equestrians, the largest population. Then there are the Griffins. They reside high in the mountains, fairly hostile towards ground folk. We are next, the surviving Canines, and one of the few races that still remember humans. Finally, there are the Zebras. They live far across the Gulf of Stripes and only a few live in this region."

Curiosity satisfied, Ulysses asked his next question, this one directed towards Adjule "I suppose it is now time we discuss business. The details are of little importance as of now, but we require the digging skills of your followers to return to where we were discovered. Our business is not yet concluded there and a loose end needs to be tied off." Ulysses looked over at Westin "My friend here has family locked inside and it would be most appreciated if you could assist in helping us gain entrance once again seeing as the only way in has been shut."

Adjule nodded, "It was preordained that you'd require help storming a stronghold, and as such, we've already prepared for the occasion. We shall discuss the details over some tea after everyone is finished with dinner, if you wish. I assume you would like to retire for the night and have pleasant dreams, and we've already have accommodations prepared for you. Before that, however, I'd like to spend some time..." he paused, choosing his words, "catching up with you. I'd truly like to learn of what's known and how you've managed to survive for countless millennia underground."

Westin stretched and leaned back in his chair, "Sounds good... but got any coffee?"

"Of course, our workers practically need the stuff in order to stay awake during their hours," Lassie confirmed.

Jacque smirked, "A man of fine roasts, I take it?"

The human chuckled to himself, "Well, ya gotta drink the fine to be fly, ya know whatta mean?"

Ulysses glanced at the servers who had so suddenly appeared to clear the dinner table. Other diners were beginning to leave, bowing their heads in respect towards the humans. Soon enough the plates and utensils were replaced with steaming cups, containing tea with the exception of Westin's coffee which was served black.

Ulysses looked up at Adjule who spoke as if on cue "What tea do you wish for?"

"Peppermint if it would be no trouble."

Adjule smiled and indicated at the server to bring the indicated tea "Of course not, my friend."

Casual chatter soon filled the air as the tea was set down. Ulysses nodded at Westin who appeared to be enjoying his coffee with the utmost delight. Such glee was absent in Ulysses and he calmly sipped on his tea which scalded his tongue. He set the mug down and glanced at his hands. The callouses from the repeated rubbing of knife handles and the grips of pistols were apparent and for a moment they sickened Ulysses, but he pushed the feelings aside with ease, head turning as Adjule's question reached his ears.

"Please, tell me how you and your friend have survived for so long."

The other dogs and even Pyrite voiced agreement and Ulysses looked over at Westin who smiled somewhat mockingly. Sighing, Ulysses began to the story "I had been imprisoned and was subsequently transferred to Catskill Research Facility on account of my eye color. Having been required to share a cell with Westin, I had my fair share of disagreements with him as we have differing views on many things."

Ulysses cleared his throat before moving onward with the tale "Over a year or so passed and the research on Westin and I suddenly stopped. Activity became frantic over the next few days and suddenly personnel started vanishing. Of course, Westin, being the opportunist that he is, thought it appropriate to escape. I declined assisting him and we had a fight after he knocked a book out of my hands. Everything goes black after that."

Westin smiled, "Tell him why they had to drug you, or why not how they found you?"

"Fine. Law enforcement arrested me after my final...task in Monterey, California. Unfortunately for me, a neighbor heard a scream and called the local police. As for why they drugged me, I shot two of them in the chest and I threw one through some drywall. Of course, the ones who had been shot were wearing vests and so they received nothing more than some broken ribs." Ulysses looked at Westin "I believe it's your turn."

Westin's face fell as he recalled what it was that actually happened, "Hmmm... I'm not going to say about what happened beforehand, but something like his shit went down with me. Cops. All over the fucking place. Why? For one black man. That shit was uncalled for though, because they arrested me for shit I didn't do. I was about to quite dealin', ya know? Made my last few stacks and was going to use that shit to pay for an education, like my moms wanted. I was walking home, happy an' shit, when I'm passing by this one mini-mart. I go past the door and bam! some nigga runs out the door and into me! I push that nigga to the floor and he runs away, dropping money everywhere. I look at my bag and see it isn't mine. That shit was scary, because I knew what was about to happen right as that nigga ran. Cops pulled up, and I'm just standin' there, money on the floor, and money in my bag. What the fuck do you think was going through their minds? I start running my ass out of there, and a pig chases after me. Now, a Chicago winter is mean as fuck, and there was snow everywhere! I mean everywhere! Almost two feet of that shit! I'm gunnin' it through alleys and lots, but this one old ass cop is still chasin' me! I keep trippin' cause of the snow, and I manage to make it down a few blocks before that scumbag tackles me into a snow bank..."

He stopped, now fuming over the memory, "So I elbowed the fucker in the nose and got up to run again. He pulls my ankle and gets me back onto the floor! His backup gets there and they start beating the shit outta me! They didn't need to go that fucking far and hit me even after I was half-alive on the fuckin' street! They cuff me, take me back to the mini-mart to get ID'ed, and guess what happens?" He clicked his tongue, "That fat fuck that owns the place, some Chink nigga, says I fucking did it!"

Westin slammed his hands on the table, "That motherfucker said I did that shit! Can you believe that? Fucking prick prolly thought all black people look alike and stole the money I earned. My money! Taken by him? I was mad as fuck... They take me in, do all that shit, and I spend a few years for armed robbery, which is funny because I didn't even have a fucking gun on me! I lose all my money, a few years of my life that I won't ever get back, and all my homies! You know what those fuckin' cops got? A fuckin' raise and the police chief suckin' their dicks over it!" He shook his head in anger, clearly distraught from the memory.

"The shit that goes on... Unbelievable... After I got out, I went to New York to visit my sister, Courtney. She was some kind of businesswoman or some shit like that, so she needed to be close to the city. You know what happens? Cops. Those pigs got both me and her and said the government wanted us for research. That we'd help the human race. And guess what the fuck happened? Those niggas took us both in and kept us locked up without any reason! I was mad... but then we ended up at that one research place. I ended up with this cracker," He pointed to Ulysses, "and the rest y'all already know."

"I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me 'Cracker'."

"Ight, Wonder-Bread."

The stories took a moment to sink in as neither Adjule, his companions or Pyrite had ever heard the tales before. It was quite obvious that Ulysses preferred his privacy and as such, he had only revealed the necessary details. Westin, however, had enjoyed sharing his story and the murky possibility that he, himself, had not been the one responsible for his imprisonment. Pyrite broke the silence.

"So you two are criminals." She pointed at Ulysses "But you're a murderer too, right?"

Ulysses' face took on a look of contempt "It's hardly murder if the...'victims' deserved their fates. I would appreciate it if you would cease your questioning and your apparent need to dwell into my personal life."

Ulysses' tea had gone cold and the temperature matched that of his eyes. Pyrite closed her mouth and looked away in response to the harsh words.

Jacque spoke up next, clearing his throat "I believe it is time to retire for the night. Unless you have any objections of course."

Jacque glanced between Westin and Ulysses who seemed to have receded deep into his mind. Westin stood up, still thinking silently about the experience years ago. The remaining coffee found its way down his throat and he placed the mug down. Of course, he wouldn't be able to sleep all that well from the coffee he ingested, but his mind was on other things. He looked at Adjule, who met his eyes.

"We talked about this shit, now when can we do it? I got a sister that needs her big bro."

The Alpha nodded, "We've already prepared well in advance, so we shall be able to leave whenever you wish."

"It ain't gonna be easy, this place is locked tight."

Jacque cut in, "Needless worry. We're quite skilled in matters of digging and excavating. There should be no problems in breaking into this facility from whence you came."

Lassie looked at her two fellow canines before looking at the two humans and unicorn, "There will be resistance, I can tell each of you that much. But don't think that we aren't armed and capable of meeting that resistance with sufficient force of our own."

The archeologist gave her a concerned look, "What kind of resistance? As in something dangerous?"

The Oracle nodded, "Quite dangerous if not dispatched appropriately. They can rise from the dead if not disposed of in the correct manner it seems." She frowned, "I've yet to see anything like these metallic things, but we will win. I know it to be true."

"Ight, fine. Let's get some sleep then," Westin concluded.

Ulysses pushed in his chair and grabbed his backpack which, at the moment, was hanging lazily from the back of his chair. Guides entered the room as if on cue and each new guest was shown to their rooms. Westin's temporary quarters lay just across the corridor from Ulysses' and Pyrite seemed to have been situated just down the hall.

Ulysses himself paused outside his door, stopping to speak to Westin for a moment "I think I like these hosts more than the Equestrians."

Westin stopped for a moment to smirk, "Word, but those two back at that town weren't bad though. Lyra an' Bon-Bon. Nice ass ladies."

"I agree with you there. We should make it a point to visit again." Ulysses lowered his voice "What about Pyrite? I don't believe we need her for a second longer after we get back in Catskills."

Westin scowled, "Didn't you hear that one bitch?" His face froze, and then he broke out into laughter, hearing his own joke, "Oh snap! Didn't even need to know it!" Settling down, he sniffed before continuing, "Nah, but seriously, that voodoo dog said she was part of some prophecy. I don't fuck with that. Not after..." His eyes narrowed and he stopped talking all of a sudden, "... Yeah, nah, I think we gotta keep her around. Besides, that girl is kinda funny."

Ulysses sighed "Fine. We keep her around, but if she sells us out to the rest of her race, it'll be on you, Westin. I don't trust her and I certainly don't like what she is and what her ancestors did. Don't be surprised when she starts disagreeing with what we plan on doing after this whole business with JFK and the facility."

The man waved his hand to dismiss the other's word, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get some sleep and shit already, I'm tired of hearing your pale ass talk all the time."

With that, Westin stepped into his room and prepared for sleep. Ulysses watched the door shut behind Westin. Something about the man irked him and for whatever reason, Ulysses found himself pulling his pistol from his jeans. He stared at the door for some time, gun in clear view. A sudden twinge made Ulysses turn and he looked at Pyrite who stood outside her own door, several feet down the hallway. Her eyes drifted down towards the pistol in Ulysses hand and for several seconds, they stared at each other. Ulysses watched her coldly before entering his own room and shutting the door.

Pyrite sighed before opening her door and standing in the doorway for a few seconds, contemplating her situation, "Those two... such screwballs... They better not double cross me. The Princesses hath no fury like a mare scorned, after all."

She made her way inside and shut the door, ready to put the day behind her. And yet, she had the odd feeling that none of them would be getting much rest tonight.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

What's goodie? Well, the plot is thickening, as I said it would. For you see, I can forecast the future! Nah, never mind, that usually leads to federal officials banging on your doors or something.

Anyway, shit's going to get serious soon. The Diamond Dogs were a bit tough to do, but we wanted the leader to be well-versed and the such. In other words, the higher up you are in the Diamond Dog chain, the more intelligent you are. Actually, that may not be how Lucius and I originally thought about it, so don't take my word for it. This fic seems to be going pretty well so far, and the reception is coming out damn fine! Keep it up guys, we like hits, we like favorites, and we especially like reviews.

Well, I'm tired as hell. Hope each and every single one of you enjoyed reading this installment of DRAGON BALL R-3. Blah, blah, blah, filler and other bullshit.

As always,

Stay Trilla.

* * *

><p><strong>Lucius Seneca<strong>

Alright. Hope everyone is doing decent, probably isn't the case anyway, so it hardly matters. Following what Stillmatic said, the Diamond Dog dialogue and, well, just the scenes overall were hard to actually refine. But yeah, the higher..."rank" you are, the smarter you have to be in the Diamond Dog world.

Anyways you filthy downloaders, review this shit, cause we like reviews, and we appreciate reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Five: Pressing Matters**

* * *

><p>Dirt, a fundamental part of the world, was being tossed carelessly about by a large grouping of mutts and dogs of all types. The work was relatively easy for the canines, and the dirt was displaced quickly. The Alpha, Adjule, and his two companions, Lassie and Jacque Brutus, oversaw the digging while the two humans, Westin and Ulysses, along with the unicorn, Pyrite Dreams, merely watched as the brown substance was flung back from the ever-growing maw in the earth. Dozens of Dogs were digging with haste, each clawing off the cover that veiled the human structure underneath.<p>

Pyrite, naturally bored out of her mind from such a tedious sight, blinked absently while speaking, "How much longer of this? How deep is this place that they haven't found a weak spot yet?"

Westin fanned himself with his cap, "Just chill and relax while ya can, no reason to start complaining ov'r relaxin."

Ulysses spoke, directing his words at Pyrite "I would have thought that you dig quite often in your profession."

She looked at him "There's a big difference between digging and doing real archeological work."

"I'm so sure."

Ulysses returned his attention to the digging canines. They plowed furiously at the earth, scarring it beyond belief. Perhaps they wished to please their human gods, but for Ulysses, the digging merely degraded the Diamond Dog's image even further. They were filthy, sweaty, and smelled terrible. Ulysses picked a speck of dirt off his sleeve, yawning in the process.

He looked over at Westin "Do you have a plan once we gain entrance?"

Westin nodded, "Yeah, we're going to find out who JFK is and cap his ass. Then, we get my sis and anyone else that's down there."

Pyrite waved her hoof, "Wait, wait, wait, how big is this place exactly?"

The man opened up the map in his back pocket and examined it, "Pretty damn big."

Tapping his foot quietly, Ulysses looked down at the map "I would hardly be surprised if it takes months to find your sister, if she's still alive that is."

His finger traced a path across the map "The section we explored is nothing more than a speck when compared to the overall scheme of this place. Depending on where we enter now, we'll have to find our bearings once again."

Westin glared at the other man, "Ight, then how about you go get us someone from inside? My hood sense is tellin' me that there's someone down there and we can prolly use 'em to find other niggas."

"For once in your life, your 'hood sense' may prove to be correct."

A sudden shout from the diggers attracted the attention of the trio and they looked over curiously, surprised to discover a wall being unearthed from its muddy coffin.

Before stepping over to the hole, Westin rolled his eyes, "My hood sense is always right, ight?" He looked downwards at the hole and then pointed to it, "That shit deep."

Adjule stepped closer and smiled, "Aha, now we can truly begin. DEMOLITION DOGS!"

A ragtag group of Dogs stood up and walked towards the hole. All diggers evacuated the maw and allowed the demolition experts to work their excessively lethal magic. Each demolisher boasted what seemed to be thick vests with various sticks of dynamite or other explosives lining their pockets. Some were missing eyes, as evidenced by eye patches, others with wooden prosthetics, but each had a burn mark and exposed skin somewhere on their body. The gruff and tough Demolition Dogs slid down the slope and began to set up explosives against the wall, lining it with thick explosives. When they were appropriately satisfied with their work, they climbed back up, laying out wire from a plunger as they did so. After getting everyone to back off a safe distance, the lead Demolition Dog laid the plunger down in front of Jacque.

Jacque turned to the pony and two humans, "Anyone care to do the honors? I believe it's only fitting."

Westin grinned, ready to set off the explosives. He stepped forward and as he was about to push down the plunger, Pyrite suddenly got in his way and did it for him. His jaw fell, but the massive explosion along with the debris and random dirt coming down on his head distracted him from his rage.

Ulysses stumbled from the blast and ducked his head as bits of rock and chunks of hardened mud rained precariously from the ceiling, threatening to hit anyone in their path. The intense shaking subsided abruptly and after a quiet moment, everyone in attendance breathed a sigh of relief, counting themselves lucky that a cave in had not occurred. Ulysses took a moment to look into the hole, squinting against the wisps of acidic smoke that rose up like phantoms.

The rotted concrete wall had been effectively obliterated and a gaping and ragged entrance had been formed into the wall. Bits of rusted mesh, disintegrating stone, and the occasional wire hung out from the destroyed wall; a tribute to the demolition experts nearby. Ulysses ducked his head and with an audible sigh, he slid down the slope, collecting dirt and filth upon his clothing.

He looked back up and caught his backpack as Westin tossed it down before sliding with obvious glee. Westin laughed and shouted with enjoyment as he muddied his shoes and made his way down to Ulysses. Ulysses himself rolled his eyes and pulled on the pack, calling up that it was safe to enter.

"It seems stable. You're free to join us."

Several dogs slid down, providing what appeared to be a primitive security detail for the humans. Westin and Ulysses looked over at each other, bobbing their heads in appreciation for the somewhat rudimentary protection. Adjule, along with Lassie and Jacque, entered next, Lassie carried atop Adjule's back like a prized possession. Ulysses and Westin ducked as a flurry of sparks exploded from some exposed wiring, filling the dark space with blue electric light which faded in an instant.

Westin wiped some dirt off his body, particularly his shoes, and pulled out the map to examine it, "Ight, here's what we're gonna do." He pointed to the front of the top floor of the facility, "Me an' some dawgs are gonna get to the front door and find a way to open that shit up." His finger was directed to Ulysses, "You go an' get some poindexter from that place we was at, then we get that nigga to start takin' shit over for us, ight?" Westin looked around at the group, "Anyone got some shit to say?"

Ulysses nodded and the group split off, vanishing into different parts of the facility.

* * *

><p>His heart beat steadily and his breathing measured and timed with precision. Ulysses jogged quietly down the hallways, floor pushing up against the soles of his feet as they made contact again and again. Westin and the other dogs had gone to the front entrance, leaving the ivory man to navigate through the sprawling facility. Doors and other hallways watched as Ulysses ran past them, pistol weighing his pants down so often that he had been required to actually tighten his belt.<p>

He paused in his running, reaching an intersection which split off into different parts of the facility. Luckily, a large, illuminated map was built into the nearby wall and it flickered occasionally as Ulysses traced his finger over the plastic-covered surface. He ignored the actual size of the facility, instead focusing his attention on the area around and nearby him. According to the map, Ulysses was located in "Section 17-A, East Wing Maintenance Floor." It was relatively close to where Ulysses and Westin had been so suddenly revived, but Ulysses was tired and resorted to casual walk.

The occasional skeleton littered the floor, clad in different uniforms, the most prominent being a faded green janitor garb. A locked door, most likely a storage closet, provided a possible chance to recover supplies and as Ulysses examined the door, he realized that he couldn't simple kick open the metal door. Pressing the pistol against lock, he pulled the trigger once, discharging the weapon and sending a projectile into the lock, completely obliterating the mechanism. With a light push, the door creaked open, and Ulysses stumbled backwards as a skeleton fell forward onto him, seemingly grabbing the human.

Ulysses yelled out in frightened surprise "It's the Stiff!"

It clung onto him before falling to the floor and breaking apart into a pile of bones and moth-eaten cloth. Ulysses shuddered and brushed off the dust from his clothing and vest. The light flicked on inside the closet as he made his way in and examined the three shelves which shielded the grey, concrete walls. Numerous cleaning products, mops, and other janitorial items littered the shelving units and the ground, a linoleum, and checkerboard pattern floor.

A glint of worn black caught Ulysses' eyes and he grabbed several walkie-talkies from a nearby shelf. He checked the batteries, and finding them dead, quickly switched them with several nearby packets of fresh batteries. A happy crackle of static greeted the man and he shoved the communication devices into his bag. The backpack was quickly become weightier and Ulysses took a moment to drop it and remove the coins from within, sorting them into stacks before depositing them into some nearby paper bags. If he couldn't get rid of them, he'd at least organize his pack.

The magazines for his weapons were next and Ulysses removed some and slipped them in between his belt and jeans, just off to the right of his crotch. Soon his bag was organized and he pulled it back on and made his way back into the labyrinth of hallways and rooms. The jogging resumed and Ulysses let out a sigh of relief as he reached the location he was familiar with. The elevator was now charred and blackened, fire burnt out. A quick scan of the prisoner cells yielded no results for other survivors and Ulysses found himself back in front of the armory.

He entered and scavenged several boxes of cartridges for both his and Westin's weapons, adding them to the already heavy bag. A long sheath, tucked away in the corner of a shelf and nearly hidden by a riot helmet, attracted the perceptive man and he grabbed it, removing a long and sinister knife from within the sheath. He recognized it as a Bowie knife, a bladed weapon meant to kill humans.

Ulysses kept it and clipped the weapon and its accompanying sheath onto the belt, letting it hang down over his buttocks. The journey continued and Ulysses realized the absurdity of his task. Westin had ordered him to find a "Poindexter" but had not told him where to look. This brooding was to be short-lived however, and as Ulysses passed by another hallway, several doors down from the cafeteria, a glowing sign caught his attention.

"Emergency Personnel Containment" The sign flashed red several times and Ulysses pushed open the weighty steel door, hand shielding his eyes from the harsh artificial light from within. The room was chilly and the air was surprisingly fresh, perhaps circulated often. There were several round, steel encased tubes, each one with a sign labeled "In Use" or "Available" There were several tubes and Ulysses peered into the small, hyphen-like window located on the apparent sliding door.

Faces greeted him, eyes shut with chemical induced sleep. Ulysses moved past several, muttering under his breath about the uselessness of several inhabitants. He stopped in front of the last tube, recognizing what appeared to be a technician. The shelter hissed as the door slid sideways and the man within fell out limply. A stained lab coat covered his body along with khakis and a simple shirt, ID card pinned to it.

Ulysses rolled the man over and slapped him hard, bringing him back to consciousness with a shout of fear. He gasped as the Bowie knife was pressed sharply against his exposed throat. Ulysses looked quietly down at the bookish, mustached man.

"Welcome back."

* * *

><p>The Demolition Dogs, much like Westin, were stumped when it came to opening the door. He stepped over to it and gave it a light kick, producing no result whatsoever. The dark-skinned man turned his body to the lead DemoDog and pointed to the door.<p>

"Seamus, can you blow it up?"

The lead DemoDog was roughly a few inches shorter than Westin, and dressed somewhat differently from the others. His faced was scarred in multiple areas, but an eye patch adorned his right eye, signifying an accident that must have occurred far earlier in his life. An area of his left ear was missing towards the top with the back left of his head slightly burnt. A thick EOD vest covered his upper chest, while a lengthy, red kilt reached to his knees. Silvery metal plates covered his knees downwards, protecting him from any shrapnel. His demeanor was just as gruff as Jacque's, but an air of friendliness surrounded the DemoDog that tore past his looks.

Seamus kneeled by the door, holding a paw to his chin and inspecting the door, "Aye, suppose I could, but tha' wouldn't be a recommended course of action."

"Why's that?"

"Well mate, if ye' plan on takin' the place back, what good would a broken front door do ye'? That'd let all kin'a nasties in if'n ye' aren't careful."

Westin nodded, "Word, Seamus, you know your shit."

The DemoDog barked in laughter, "Aye, that I do, friend, that I do. But maybe we can find sometin' else ta' open it? Ye' friend might've gotten the thing he was lookin' fer, maybe it'll know how to open the doors."

"Right, right. Okay, so we just wait for those two niggas to come back."

No one seemed to respond after that, and the air turned slightly awkward. In fact, it was awkward enough for Westin to try and start small talk.

"Yo Seamus, where you from?"

The Dog chuckled and flashed a smile, "Are ye' really wantin' to know, mate?"

"I'll tell you where I'm from if you do the same," Westin said with an amused smirk.

Glad to have someone that actually cared enough to ask such a question, Seamus smiled and failed to notice his tail wagging, "Aye, suppose we could do that. Ye' see, I was born not far from the Lock Isles..."

* * *

><p>"Down the hall. Move."<p>

Ulysses pushed his pistol against the back of the technician's head, shoving him forward. The man was obviously scared as he was shaking and stumbling, praying under his breath. Ulysses had no patience for religion and as soon as he heard the prayers, he pushed him harder, cold barrel of the pistol digging sharply into the technician's back. The man cried out and stumbled forward, pushing himself up against a wooden door in front of himself.

Ulysses kicked the frightened techie in the small of the back, sending him through the wooden door with a crash and hail of splinters. The man sprawled out and slid slightly as he collapsed to the cold tile floor, putting his hands over his head in some form of rudimentary protection.

Ulysses looked up and nodded at Westin "I found a helper."

Westin looked down at the man and held out his hand to him while looking at Ulysses, "Anythin' else?"

The techie looked up to Westin and hesitantly grabbed the hand, allowing himself to be helped up. He bit his tongue to prevent a frightened scream once his eyes met the Demolition Dogs. Two walkie-talkies and a box of cartridges slid out of the bag and Ulysses laid them on a nearby counter. Passing the walkie-talkie and ammo to Westin, Ulysses quickly turned on his own walkie-talkie.

"Channel one. Try it."

Westin smirked and held the walkie-talkie to his mouth, "Kssht, this is Big Black, come in Wonder-Bread, do you read me?"

Ulysses brought the walkie-talkie to his mouth, displaying humor, "Wonder-Bread here, what's the situation over there Big Black?"

"This Big Black, we can't open this shit, over. Get this nerd to open it for us, over."

"Roger that Big Black. Commencing forceful compliance. Wonder-Bread out."

Ulysses grabbed the technician by the scruff of neck and dragged him to the counter, forcing his face onto its hard surface with a slam.

Speaking quietly and directly, Ulysses lowered his face closer to the technician's, "How do we open that door?"

The man squirmed with frightened jerks "I don't know!"

Ulysses sighed and with a sudden flourish, drove the point of his knife into the countertop, letting it quiver with slight vibrations "Wrong answer. Try again."

Westin leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, "Just start tellin' us and we can stop this bullshit."

"Stop! Please! I-I-I need to think!" the techie shouted.

He got close to the ear of the man and spoke, "Well hurry the fuck up and think, nigga! People need help and you're just complaining an' shit!"

Ulysses ripped the knife free of the counter "Just tell us and you'll be fine."

"Y-You'll have to reroute the power from t-t-the emergency generator!"

The man fell to the floor as Ulysses released his grip on the back of his neck. Sighing with impatience, Ulysses looked down at the trembling man.

"And where is the emergency generator?"

"Section 1D! The lowest level!"

Ulysses looked over at Westin, but addressed his words to the technician "And how does he start the power from there?"

The man looked up at Ulysses "There'll be a breaker. He'll have to restart it manually. If this door is locked down, it means that power to the facility has been prioritized. That means that only the necessary parts of the facility are running with full power, everything else is receiving the minimum amount."

Westin shrugged, "Whatever, peace out. I'm going to fuck with shit I don't understand and hope something good happens."

He departed from the lobby, leaving behind the DemoDogs and other two humans.

* * *

><p>The map, despite being detailed, was thoroughly confusing and full of information that didn't pertain to the situation at hand. Still, Westin made do and found himself trekking through the empty hallways of the research complex. The squeaking of his shoes echoed off the walls and provided a minute amount of life to the seemingly dead facility. It was only after a few moments of jogging that he stumbled upon what he expected to be a shortcut to the lowest level of the facility: the manufacturing labs.<p>

Westin didn't really care what resided inside, but something began to nag him that danger was present. He pulled out his Beretta and kept his fingers tightly coiled around the grip. The swinging double doors in front of him gave no clue as to what was inside, but no noise seemed to emanate from the area. Using a free hand, the black man pushed open the door lightly, as to not attract attention. What he saw wasn't very much out of the ordinary; in fact, it seemed to be what a manufacturing area would contain. Various odds and ends littered the floor, with machinery for creating items spread about. Conveyor belts hooked between machines, ready to deliver without hesitation. He exhaled, calmed by the fact there was nothing about.

Moving between the piles of materials was fairly easy, but something caught his eye that seemed out of place. A metal arm stuck out of a pile carelessly, abandoned and left in place. Curious, he walked towards it and tapped it with the end of his gun, waiting for a reaction. Of course, nothing came, so he continued on. That is, until the appendage grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. Westin's eyes shot to the metal prosthetic and gritted his teeth. It was a trap, laid for him.

The man attempted to yank his arm loose, but the grip of the arm's hand was far too strong. Without warning, several abominations surfaced from different piles, each unique and different from one another. The rag-tag pieces of walking metal closed in on Westin with quirky and uneven steps. This, however, gave him time to retaliate. He aimed his firearm at a metal being and fired at the head, dropping it to the floor in a heap of objects. Two more shots rang out, removing the faux-life from the other contraptions. A tremendous squeeze on his hand forced him to drop the gun screaming, and he looked back at the original arm.

The body connecting to it stood up, with the dull fluorescent light of the room bouncing off the radiant hull that was the shell of this magnificent specimen. It lurched forward and seized his other arm, with others catching up and putting him in their grasp. His struggles proved to be in vain however, as they easily lifted him off of his feet and over their heads. Twisting his hand, Westin managed to free it enough to be able to grab his walkie-talkie and turn on the distress signal before tossing it away from the metal beings.

They flipped him over and laid him on the rough surface of the conveyor belt, where his flailing still proved useless. The owner of the original arm weighed his body down easily and turned his head to the left. The others forced his arms to spread out and a nearby hissing came into existence. He blinked, trying to figure out what they were going to do and thinking faster than he had ever before. Suddenly, the sound of a deeper hissing and the collision of two objects echoed through the lab.

Westin forced himself to turn his head, only to be horrified beyond his wildest dreams. His entire right arm has been crushed by an industrial press, splattered and spread across the conveyor belt as unceremoniously as possible. No feeling presented itself for a few moments, and not a word came out of his slackened jaws. As if on cue, the massive pain set in, burning his shoulder as if hot coals had been stuck into it. His primal screams of pain were heard all around, and they emphasized the torture he was bearing. What was left of his right arm had been a nasty paste stuck to the black surface of the conveyor belt, and the very thought made him feel light-headed. Fainting slowly became an amazing option to him, but much to his disdain, something else kicked in.

Forced by his loss of an arm, adrenaline began to spike in his blood, despite his arm openly squirting amounts of the crimson substance. He reeled backwards, sending the robotic creature to the floor. A metal pipe, what had been an arm to a robot, was torn of and found itself in Westin's possession. Without further hesitation, the extremely volatile and now self-destructive black man began his reign of unrestrained terror on the metal creatures that wronged him.

* * *

><p>Ulysses ran. His hands worked feverishly at his vest, ripping it off his chest and tossing it aside. His backpack had left his person minutes ago and his legs pumped strongly, arms swinging at his sides as he followed the distress signal: a beeping which grew louder with every minute, becoming a precarious noise. Ulysses skidded and he started down another corridor with precision and speed. His arm was aching painfully and it had acted as an intense reinforcement that Westin was in trouble. A DemoDog was following Ulysses, panting loudly as it struggled to keep up with the sprinting human.<p>

The manufacturing lab's doors appeared and Ulysses threw himself into them, causing the doors to swing wildly. Never before had he moved so fast and he practically leapt over the piles of spare parts, ignoring the cuts and scrapes he received. Pausing for a moment, Ulysses took a breath and located Westin, slumped over a conveyor belt, unconscious. Within moments Ulysses was next to him and cradled the man, eyes scanning over the horrible injury. The man's arm was never going to be used again and Ulysses took a deep breath before examining it thoroughly, allowing the tailing DemoDog to catch up.

The arm was obliterated. Clumps of thick muscle fibers, crushed marrow, and streams of continuous blood filled Ulysses' vision. His fingers slowly lifted the "Pancaked" appendage from the floor and several long tendons slip from the rubbery mess, hanging downwards like stamped noodles: yellow and long. He froze for a moment, eyes following the mess all the way up to Westin's shoulders, where the crushing had ended.

Gasping breath could be heard and Ulysses turned to face the DemoDog who was gasping for breath, sweat pouring down his face.

Ulysses voice caught the dog off guard "Do you have a medical kit?"

The dog nodded, long scars distorting its appearance "Yeah, but why..." Its eyes drifted over to Westin and within seconds the medical kit was out.

Rummaging through it, Ulysses located a several items he would need and he ripped the bandana from the DemoDog's head and tied it furiously above the crushed arm, hoping to limit blood loss. Knowing what he would have to do next, Ulysses stood up and looked around, relieved to find what he was looking for.

He looked at the nauseated DemoDog "Help me carry him and grab the med kit."

The dog assisted in carrying Westin, blood dripping and spraying as they crossed the manufacturing labs, nearing their objective. Industry had always been a producer and user of steel and these labs were no different, boasting an area dedicated to production of steel. Molten steel bars, used mainly for supports, were resting on a special, fireproof conveyor belt and as the trio neared it, they could feel the heat radiating from the metal.

Ulysses unwrapped the tourniquet and shoved the blood-soaked bandana into Westin's mouth, taking a deep breath before pulling his knife from its sheath. The blade was slowly worked into the area just above where the injury ended. Ulysses had never amputated, but he had a good idea of what to do and he felt with his fingers, pushing them under the flattened flesh and feeling for tendons, veins, and everything else.

His mind went into a state of focus, ignoring everything else. Ulysses located strands of muscle and pinched them tight between his thumb and index finger before slicing through the filaments of muscles and noodle-like veins and tendons.

Sort, pinch, rotate, slice.  
>Sort, pinch, rotate, slice.<br>Sort, pinch, rotate, slice.  
>Sort, pinch, rotate, slice.<br>Patterns; process.

Whatever crushed, bloody mass was placed between Ulysses' fingers was quickly separated and he continued onwards. A feeling of completion greeted him as his knife slid through the last bit of flesh and the crumpled arm flopped the floor, completely cut from Westin's body. Westin began to cry out in his unconsciousness and Ulysses tossed the knife away, letting it fall from his bloody hands. The DemoDog watched as Ulysses pulled Westin into a kneeling position, easily seizing the mutated stump which had once been an arm.

A sickening sizzling filled the air and Westin awoke with a start, screaming with the utmost pain as his arm was pressed roughly against a piece of molten steel. His skin bubbled and charred. The blood which had been spurting from arteries was bubbling and Westin, screaming muffled from the rag, kicked out in pain and agony until he passed out once again. Ulysses held tight for another moment before pulling Westin's now cauterized stump away from the metal.

The med kit was opened once again and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide appeared from the depths and was unceremoniously poured over the smoking stump. White bubbles fizzed angrily and soon a white froth covered the blackened flesh which looked more like a badly cooked steak. The skin was peeling up and reddened flesh could be seen beneath. Next came the bandages and Ulysses wrapped them thickly around the seeping wound, effectively nurturing it.

The procedure was complete and Ulysses sat back, exhausted beyond belief despite the fact that the whole ordeal had only lasted around four minutes. The DemoDog looked at Ulysses in wonderment, but a sudden robotic moan attracted his attention. Ulysses stood up slowly and walked quietly back to where he had discovered Westin. Several ragtag mannequins lay disassembled on the cold concrete floor, but for one that was still crawling feebly. Ulysses pushed it over with his foot, leaving a bloody shoe print on its side.

It looked feverishly up at the man, perhaps hallucinating somehow "Papa?"

Ulysses pulled his pistol out and pulled back the slide of it; metal scraping on metal rang out through the labs "I'm afraid not."

The mannequin looked around "Papa said to grab the men...Papa said he would be proud."

The pistol stared down coldly at the exposed head and the mannequin met the pistol's gaze "What-"

The sudden discharge of the projectile surprised the nearby DemoDog and the bullet slammed through the mannequin, destroying it.

Ulysses lowered his weapon. His eyes stared down at the mutated robot for a moment and for a second he was reminded of a voice long ago.

_"Papa? Papa, what happened to you?"_

Shaking his head, Ulysses slowly lowered himself to the ground and sighed. Other dogs were beginning to race in, including Jacque, Adjule, Lassie, and suddenly Pyrite was there. Her blue eyes met Ulysses and for a long moment he felt the intense loneliness within himself, a strange churning of sadness and emotional instability. Pyrite saw it and for a moment she felt pity for the man, but the sudden flash of ice in her eyes prevented her from saying anything and she began to assist the Diamond Dogs in aiding the unconscious Westin, leaving Ulysses to dwell by himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

Yo, it's ya boy Stillmatic up in this bitch, hittin' you up with some real talk, ya heard?

So, some interesting development this chapter, as you can see. What will become of Westin? You won't know for a bit. What will become of the techie? You'll see later. What will Seamus ever do to avenge his new best friend? Eh, we'll see.

The next few chapters will focus on the facility and how they interact with it, which I'll say now. Also, art for this fic is on the way, and it's being done pretty damn good. When it's done, it'll be the new picture for the FIMFiction version of this fic. If you have an account on FIMFiction, drop a comment or track or some shit. We really don't get that much attention on there, which is a bit odd.

Anyway, that's about it.

As Always,

Stay Trilla


	7. Chapter 7

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Six: Building Bridges**

* * *

><p>The timer buzzed. Its ringing echoed loud and clear across the small room, bouncing off the walls. A finger slowly pressed down on the clock and the button atop it, effectively silencing the annoying sound. Ulysses paused for a moment, glancing casually over the array of beakers and pots, some being heated while others had been left to cool, their use run out. The pot directly in front of Ulysses was beginning to bubble and the man turned the heat down, glad to see the bubbles begin to dissipate in the mixture. The timer was once again set and Ulysses returned to his other tasks.<p>

Bottles and flasks were in disarray and the unlikely chemist began to sort them, carefully placing them in proper alphabetical order, making sure not to drop any of the volatile substances. Ulysses closed a small glass cabinet and began to mop the floor which was covered with sprinkles of different elements and splashes of strange liquids. The floor itself was a plain white tile, matching the small lab around it. There was quiet apart from the swishing off the raggedy mop and the dripping of water as Ulysses dipped the mop back into it's bin; filthy water splashing within.

The ivory skinned man paused in his mopping and removed the thick turtle neck over his torso and easily revealed the tank top beneath as he hung the black sweater on the door handle. If one were to take a long, hard look at Ulysses, they would have seen the small, creeping tendrils of scarred skin that poked out from underneath the thin tank top. Ulysses himself rubbed at one particular spot, shifting his clothing by several inches, further revealing the horrid scars beneath. Eventually, he removed the entire piece of clothing, annoyed at the itchiness of it.

He was a well-built man, muscles rippling beneath his skin. He was nowhere near Westin's excessive fitness level, but Ulysses still cut a striking figure in the faint light of the lab. He would have been quite handsome apart from his cold eyes and the sickening scar upon his chest. It was as if his skin from below his left collarbone and down to just above his belly button had been scorched with a blow torch. The flesh was mutilated and misshapen, giving Ulysses' chest a look of melted plastic. He hung the tank top upon the door handle as well and turned off the timer mere seconds after it began its loud noise.

Ulysses grabbed the large pot, careful not to burn his hands or spill its deadly contents, and began to pour the excess oil out and into a small glass beaker which received the steaming fluid with only a few splashes. Setting the pot back down, Ulysses grabbed a nearby kettle, one which had begun its high pitched whistling. The boiling water tumbled out from the kettle and into the mixture in front of Ulysses. Soon a large wooden spoon was plunged into the thick depths and Ulysses began to stir, all the while keeping a steady flow of boiling water coursing into the pot.

The kettle was soon emptied and Ulysses set it aside and continued his stirring, finding the mixture becoming increasingly difficult to stir, as it was thickening rapidly. Next came a large glass of cool water, poured directly into the solidifying substance. Ulysses continued the stirring for another minute until pellets began to form within the pot, at which point Ulysses removed the spoon and set it aside, grabbing a small can, the kind someone might find soup in, and several other pieces of material.

Minutes passed and eventually Ulysses began to construct a strange piece of apparatus. The top of the tin can was promptly removed and Ulysses slid several layers of "O" shaped foam down and into the can, covering the surrounding walls. Next came a collection of small vials, taped together in a thick bundle with duct tape. Once the vials were set in place (Nestled within the foam circles) the lid of the can was punctured with a knife, leaving several small holes in an irregular pattern.

Said lid was carefully forced down and into the bottom of the can, covering the combination of foam and vials. Ulysses wiped the sweat off of his brow and continued with the next step of the dangerous procedure. The pot and its contents had cooled and large pellets had formed. Ulysses, using a hijacked soup ladle, scooped a large collection of pellets out and deposited them ever so carefully into the can. He repeated this process once more and stopped abruptly, leaving about 1/3 of the can empty.

The process was not yet complete and Ulysses retrieved a small, non-electric blasting cap attached with a small fuse. He slowly forced the blasting cap and the accompanying fuse down and into the warm pellets until he reached the buried lid. A small shot glass, filled with iron shavings, was easily poured onto the pellets and Ulysses smoothed out the rough mixture, carefully conforming it around the fuse which stuck out from the explosive depths.

Another tin lid, presumably from another can, was grabbed off the nearby countertop and, using nimble fingers, Ulysses punctured a large hole in it's surface before threading the fuse through it, eventually pushing the lid down and onto the exposed opening of the can. Duct tape was wrapped thickly around the lid and the surrounding sides of the can, easily securing the aforementioned lid. Ulysses sighed loudly and sat back in a nearby chair. He took a moment to glance around.

The lab was small, no doubt used for minor experiments, and proved to be a perfect location for the manufacturing of the explosives. Ulysses, being an avid highschooler who attended chemistry class throughout his years enrolled, had easily discovered how to make use of his skills with some simple internet searches.

There were several pots, beakers, pieces of tubing, and other scientific apparatus scattered around the lab. Hot plates were beginning to cool off and Ulysses opened the nearby door in order to let the room air out. The manufacturing lab was adjoined to the room, but it had been cleaned up recently by some Diamond Dog workers. They milled about, organizing the thousands of spare parts, as ordered by Adjule who, along with Lassie and Jacque, were resting in their new underground quarters currently.

Westin was recuperating in another area of the facility, no doubt in extreme pain from his recently amputated arm. Ulysses was sure that there would be permanent nerve damage from the extensive injury and the rough surgery which had immediately followed. Picking up the can, Ulysses slowly hefted it, feeling the weight of it. The can itself contained TNT and nitroglycerin along with a small amount of iron shavings. The nitroglycerin, being incredibly volatile, was contained within the vials which were currently nestled comfortably within the foam.

The TNT was layered over the top of the lowermost lid, covered by iron shavings. When detonated, the homemade explosive would take out an entire building without a problem. Ulysses opened a small drawer and slid the bomb within, joining it with several Molotov cocktails and makeshift hand grenades. There was something incredibly interesting about fire and explosives to Ulysses and he loved the chaos they brought.

His eyes flickered over the working dogs for an instant before he left the labs and exited them entirely, heading back towards where Westin would be resting, grabbing his tank top in the process.

* * *

><p><em>Pride had been the bane of relationships for Westin. Of the few he managed to keep afloat longer than a few weeks, it was usually pride that sunk it with guarantee. Here he stood, at his girlfriend of roughly a year's house, close to midnight. His hand was still, but holding a key close to the front door. The mind of the young man considered if what he was doing was right for himself. While it was his fault of accusing his girlfriend, Tiana, of cheating on him, Westin was usually never one to admit he was wrong. Still, he felt something for her, and for that, he would manage to eke out a very small apology. <em>

_The huge fight they had didn't help the situation either, with neither talking for over a week. But maybe if he took the initiative, he could save as much face as possible and finally mend the relationship again. His mind came back to his present situation and soon decided for him. Swallowing his pride, he stuck the key in the lock and made his way into the door. Being one to have the personal knowledge of safety, he locked it behind him and took off his shoes. Westin found himself rolling his eyes at such idiotic rules such as these, but he pushed past it. _

_Without a second thought, the man crept up the stairs, hoping to catch Tiana awake. The idea of apologizing was sour, but a grin was evidence that it might just turn sweet if he played his cards right. Westin chuckled to himself as he made his up. His keen sense of hearing detected something however, something that was familiar. It was immediately known in his mind what was happening, and it made his blood boil without restraint. The dark hands clenched feverishly together, ready to rip something apart at a second's notice. What he was hearing had been a something moving against a bed, giving off the signature squeak of springs receiving the force from sex. _

_Westin sprinted up the stairs and kicked in the bedroom door, his eyes glowing in a primal anger that oozed adrenaline into his system. The right part of his mouth twitched at what he saw once he flicked on the lights. In his place was someone else, another man that tried to comfort his woman in her time of need. Obviously, the comfort got too personal for them and left Westin in the dust. There was nothing that he hated more in his entire life than what he saw at this very moment. The other man, someone he didn't recognize, turned his head and scrambled off of Tiana, falling off of the bed in the process._

_Westin's felt his skin become dangerously hot as his anger increased every second. The ears on his head didn't respond to the slightest, and no sound made itself known to his person as he took a few steps forward. Time itself seemed to slow slightly, most likely a side-effect of the adrenaline, and he was barely conscious of the world around him enough to see that his so-called girlfriend was screaming something at him. The philanderer stood up and grabbed at his clothes, ready to make a quick escape. _

_Pretending to pay him no mind and glaring at Tiana with mass-amounts of hate, Westin allowed the other man to attempt to move around him and leave. Of course, as soon as he was close enough, Westin sucker-punched the relationship-wrecker and tackled him to the carpeted floor. The screams of Tiana fell on deaf ears as countless punches landed against the face of the man. Westin's arm retracted and pushed forward enough times to make him change his tactics._

_The now very antagonized Westin lifted up his counterpart and threw him against the wall, ripping off a cheap painting from its place on it in the process. Each deep breath that escaped him was quickly replaced as he watched the person get up shakily and hold out his hands in surrender. Hearing nothing of it, Westin head-butted him and sent him to the floor of the nearby bathroom. In the few seconds it took for him to get inside, the other man had already gotten up and grasping for anything that could help him. The bloody face and broken nose only seemed to be a sight that infuriated Westin more._

_With only a few motions, Westin snapped his perpetrator's elbow in the opposite direction, eliciting screams of agony to run through the air. Knowing now was the time to finally finish this, he kicked the man in the chest and sent him through the shower curtains, where his head connected with the hard tiles and porcelain. The noise ceased. Westin's hearing slowly came back as he stared at his work. A loud sobbing was heard nearby, but he had no time for such things. He turned the faucet on the shower to as hot as possible and left the other person to boil as he made his way out of the bathroom._

_His eyes met Tiana's, who near immediately quieted. The light-skinned woman sat on the front of the bed, her face wet from her tears. Westin snorted in disgust and turned to walk away, but a slender hand grabbed his bulky arm. He whipped around and back-handed her across the face, and then shoved her to the ground violently. There was no mercy or remorse in his actions as the pure hatred piled up again. Knowing he'd better leave before he did something else he might regret, Westin left the hurt woman to wallow in her pain and pity._

_Before exiting the room, he turned his head partially to her, "If you didn't know, you fuckin' low-life, conniving, loose slut, we're over. Enjoy your fucking self, bitch."_

_With that, the now embittered man left the house and entered his car. In only a few minutes, he arrived at his friend's house, where he knocked at the door, straining to keep his feelings from being shown in his actions. The door opened and they greeted each other. His friend, Jerry, knew immediately that something was wrong. Still, they were never ones to turn their backs on their boys, and so he let him in. Westin quickly found himself on the couch, where his stoic appearance and dark face began to creep Jerry out._

_He was finally snapped out of his thoughts when Jerry spoke, "What happen', nigga?"_

_Westin's eyes slowly shut as he exhaled, "That bitch… Tiana…"_

"_She was with anotha' nigga?" Westin nodded, "You took his ass to the ghetto university?"_

_A sick grin that spat how much he relished in that other person's pain crossed his face, "I fucked him up bad… If anybody asks-"_

"_Me an' you were here watching the Bulls' game."_

_Westin chuckled, "Word is bond, son." He sighed, "I can't believe that shit happen' though…" _

"_Didn't expect her to pull that type of shit," Jerry added._

_Despite how he was desperately trying to play it off, Westin was more than deeply hurt at what he saw, scarring his outlook, "… It just fuckin' goes to show nigga, you can't _ever_ trust a fucking light-skinned bitch… ever."_

_Not agreeing with that but willing to comfort his friend, Jerry attempted to solve the situation the best way he knew, with alcohol. He pulled out a few forties and handed two to Westin, who undid the top and quickly stomached down the malt beverage. Even Jerry was somewhat surprised at how much his comrade was ingesting in such a short time._

_He attempted question the other man about it, "You wanna slow down nigga?"_

_Westin lazily wiped his mouth on his sleeve before belching, "Fuck it, I'm drinkin' until I see the bottom of the bottle."_

_Jerry shrugged, knowing full-well that Westin wasn't the person to argue with when hurt. He wasn't sure how one of the toughest guys he knew was somehow hurt, but it wasn't something to consider at this time. This was his fault though, and the idea that Westin would suffer mentally at what he saw never crossed his mind. Without realizing it, he let the hate manifest within his friend and grow to great proportions. Westin, a man who only hated what had wronged him, now found all of his prejudice and discrimination directed towards one type of female. Little did he know that it would ruin countless relationships later on, and a very peculiar one would bud roughly three and a half thousand years later._

* * *

><p>At a gruelingly slow pace, reality returned to the African-American man whose memories corrupted his dreams. His body jerked upwards, letting the collected sweat on his face drip down onto him. The panting and musky body-odor didn't do much in the department of combating his current nausea, but he managed to keep the bile from coming up his throat. Not fully remembering what had happened, Westin tried to use his right forearm to wipe away the sticky sweat from his head, only to find nothing touching him. There was an eerie sense of emptiness that made his blood turn cold at the realization.<p>

A frown formed on his face, one that dripped a sadness he had never felt before. The green eyes turned to his right shoulder, where many bandages had covered an armless area. The frown deepened and Westin fell onto his back, staring at the ceiling in self-pity. It must be a dream, and nothing else. There was no way in hell that he had lost an arm in such a way, or at all for that matter. His eyes darted back to the bandages and a low whimper escaped his lips. It was true, he had lost his arm. The memories of his last few moments of consciousness came back to him fully, and dread gripped him as it all replayed in his mind.

Westin's head turned to the right of the cot, where he pulled a garbage pail with his left hand towards him. He vomited his last meal, letting the tannish substance burn his throat and exit his systems. The bald head hung low in thoughtless sorrow, just waiting for something to happen to end him. Never before had he felt so utterly weak and helpless, and this event was proving to be far too much for him. A tapping on his good shoulder turned his attention to whatever it was in front of him.

Pyrite gave as sympathetic a smile as she could muster, speaking low and soothingly, "How are you feeling?"

Westin turned onto his back and lied there, unspeaking and unresponsive. His regular blinking was the only sign to Pyrite that he was still awake or alive at all. Still, she would be there for him despite what he may have said or done earlier. He wasn't that bad of a colt at all and the recent event only made her empathize with him more in his time of need. She shivered at the thought of losing a body part in such a way, counting herself lucky to have never experienced such a terrible act.

By the time she looked back at Westin, he was already staring at her with hurt eyes. The deep sadness within them was more than enough to tell her that what he was going through was incredibly painful to endure and her appreciation of all her limbs skyrocketed. Pyrite watched him sigh and stare at the floor for a few moments before his sight focused back on her. The unicorn noticed smidgen of hope in his eyes this time, making her smile internally.

"… Can you fix it?"

She blinked, surprised at his question, "Fix what? Your… arm?" He nodded, "I'm sorry, but… Westin, I can't do that. I don't know how or probably even have enough magic to regenerate a new arm for you. It just doesn't work like that with my magic, or anypony's at all as far as I know."

Westin attempted to swallow, but found his throat dry, "Yeah, I figured… I-I just don't believe this shit… How did this ever happen? Why the fuck would they ever do some shit like that?"

Pyrite's ears fell, with her feeling somewhat guilty of something she had no part in, "I-I don't know…" She glanced at the door before placing a hoof on Westin's chest, "Don't worry, they'll find the stallion that made those things and told them to ambush you. I'm sorry for us not being there for you-"

Westin snorted, once again surprising Pyrite, in frustration, "Nah… I'm gonna to find that fucker… And tear him limb from limb until he ain't got shit left to do shit with. I'm gonna torture him all slow until he fuckin' dies from the pain." A scowl grew on his face as his rage returned, "I ain't going to let some motherfucking scumbag smash my arm into nothing and get away with it! I'm gonna cut him-" Westin swung his legs to the right and sat at the edge of the cot in the medical bay, "and slice off his fuckin' dick!" He stood up for a moment before collapsing onto his knees. "He fucked with the wrong nigga…"

Pyrite stood to his right and used her magic to lift him to his feet with a smile, "Glad to see you're your old self again."

His eyes glanced around the room with his left hand stroking Pyrite's mane. Westin soon realized what he was doing subconsciously when he felt Pyrite twitch from the feeling. He pulled his hand back and stretched his neck back dramatically.

She looked back up to him and frowned, "Good, that was… not like me to like that and I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it."

He shrugged with only one shoulder, "Fine by me."

Realizing he was only in a pair of boxers, Westin got dressed in his old clothes. Pyrite's help made the process go by quicker, as his lack of an arm proved to be a bit counterproductive to his goal. It was in no way easy for him to hide all of his pain, anger, and sorrow behind a mask, but he knew it was better for him to keep up his appearances, despite the fact he just lost an entire arm. Secretly, his sense of hope and preservation were absolutely demolished in all regards, leaving him to fester as a hateful wreck cloaked by his original personality. Westin's thoughts on his own psyche were cut short as someone entered the room.

* * *

><p>Ulysses closed the door quietly behind him, pistol butt revealed, pressed tightly between his back and belt. The air seemed fake, circulated and filtered to the point of artificiality. Ulysses nodded casually at Westin, not interested in knowing how the injured man was doing, more attracted to the prospect of procuring some hypodermic syringes for a small project. The room became increasingly quiet, even awkwardly so, as Ulysses rooted around small cabinets and drawers.<p>

Westin lay back on the bed, perhaps growing tired. Pyrite decided to break the silence, spotting the scars which crept ever so creepily out from beneath Ulysses' tank top.

"Are...are you okay?"

Ulysses looked back over his shoulder slightly "Why wouldn't I be?"

Pyrite became slightly embarrassed "Well, it's just that..."

"My scars? They're really none your business."

Westin sighed and got back up from the cot, ready to walk around, "I heard some nigga whipped his dick across his back an' that's how he got that shit."

Ulysses absently scratched his neck as he continued his unsuccessfully searching "Quite the humor you have. You look much better without an arm."

Westin scowled, "Far as I'm concerned nigga, I lost an arm and still got two more left. You only got the two on your shoulders though, bitch."

Sarcasm dripping from his words, Ulysses replied "Oh, I can barely contain my laughter."

"I need to find one of those horse doctors to regrow my arm," Westin stated as he rubbed the tender area affectionately. "This shit ain't gonna cut it."

Ulysses turned and promptly sat back on the countertop, eyes flickering over Westin's stump "That could prove to be difficult. I had to cut through the remaining nerves and cauterize the stump. Also, my apologies for gagging you, I didn't want you to bite your tongue off."

Westin shrugged his one arm, "I'll force them to fix this shit at gun-point."

"I hope you're ambidextrous."

"Ew, what the fuck? Nigga, do I look like a faggot?"

Ulysses leaned back and chuckled, clapping his hands in the process "You never cease to amuse me."

Pyrite looked at both of the men with confusion, "What's a 'faggot'?"

Ulysses laughed harder, hand nursing his side. His counterpart, Westin, was also doubled over, if somewhat hampered by the stump.

Pyrite looked annoyed, "What?"

Westin wiped a tear from his face, "Oh fuck... That shit was hilarious!"

"Ignorance is quite prevalent with you, Pyrite!"

Pyrite huffed and sat on her haunches, "It's not my fault you weirdos know some stupid crud that I don't."

Westin patted Ulysses with the back of his hand and grinned, almost on the verge of falling over from laughter again, "She mad!"

Ulysses nodded amusedly, "She is indeed. Feel up to a walk? Things are changing around here."

"Let's get the fuck outta here," Westin said as he grabbed his Bull's cap.

Ulysses held open the door for his companions and they ventured back into the facility's hallways. Immediately Westin could see changes. Diamond Dogs were all over the place, milling about, supplies and weapons in their arms. Thousands of years of continual damage was being repaired by skilled Repair Dogs and the buzz of saws and the crackling of welding could be heard echoing down the hallways.

Ulysses led the way back to the manufacturing lab, the same place where Westin had lost his arm. This room was also being cleaned, but work was also occurring. Hammers dinged as pieces of metal were shaped and molded. God knew what the dogs were working on, but the sight was somewhat comforting.

Ulysses nodded his head towards the busy lab "The Diamond Dogs are working all over this floor. There's much to be done, but even as I speak, more of their species are arriving here. Apparently the very possibility of humans being alive draws thousands to this destination."

"Who's showing up to the party?" Westin thought for a moment, "And can any of those fucks replace my arm?"

Humming in concentration, Ulysses took a moment to reply "Mostly the canines. Pyrite is the only...equestrian here, and several griffins have arrived. I wouldn't worry so much about your arm. If the records I flipped through are correct, there's a prosthetics lab somewhere below us."

"Hell no, I ain't going to go fuck some random bitch, at least, not without a bulletproof rubber."

"Pros-the-tics. Artificial limbs. Not prostitutes."

"Oh," Westin said, "then what the fuck are we waiting for? Let's get someone to strap that shit on and turn me into a BeepBoop BooBop. Become one of them fuckin' Dragon Ball Z Android mothafuckas, shootin' lasers out my arm an' and shit."

Ulysses shoved his hands into his pockets "From what I've read, you can get something high quality, but not that advanced. Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Fuck. That shit work like a real arm? Can I feel with it?"

"Star Wars style."

Westin cocked an eyebrow, "The fuck does that bald nigga Picuad and the Priceline guy have to do with this robot shit?"

Ulysses sighed loudly and absently sorted through a pile of spare parts with his foot "That's Star Trek. Look, all you need to know is that its top of the line material. Prototypes, experimental regeneration, all that."

"Then let's get it and stick it to my shoulder." Westin stopped for a few seconds to think, "... Wait... I bet my jump shots are going to be- Aww shit! I'm going to be shootin' three's like nobody's business! Hell yeah!"

"It's not that easy. That level is locked down, just like the majority of the facility. Apparently, the AI has most of the sectors locked off."

Westin growled in anger, "Then get that techie mofo to open up that shit and let's kill that fucking computer!"

Ulysses threw his hands up in defeat "He can't. That technician is small time, level two access only. He can bypass some doors, but he's unable to do much more than that. I had the rest of his friends thawed too. They're under guard, working on establishing a wireless network."

"What about my sister?" Westin questioned.

"General population is on sector 9F. Locked down."

Westin grumbled to himself before speaking, "How can we get this shit done?"

Ulysses began to lead Pyrite and Westin deeper into the lab "Like I said, some areas are accessible, but I think its best we wait until everything is up and running around here."

"I can't stand being down here anymore. Where are those bird-niggas?"

Stopping at a table, Ulysses ran his fingers over the array of weaponry before locating a beretta and passing it to Westin "Griffins are just around the corner. I'll be down here if you need me. Be warned, they aren't easily intimidated."

Westin began to leave but stopped at the door, "I don't need to intimidate to fuck with the Higgons. I'm going to see what's up."

With that, Westin exited the room, leaving Pyrite and Ulysses together.

* * *

><p>Westin exhaled after shutting the door behind him. His body slumped unhealthily as the memories of what had happened and the realization of it hit him. What kind of man was he if he lacked an arm? Worse was that it was his dominant arm that was lost to that damned metal press. He was never one to pity himself, but the situation was beginning to get to be too much for him, deteriorating his resolve and puncturing the balloon of hope that flew above him. His mouth twitched, desperately trying to express a frown he didn't allow to form.<p>

He sighed and shook his head, "Dark thoughts lead to blacker heart, life can't get any worse, unless I see Stevie with his glasses off."

Despite the reference, Westin found no amusement in his words. He continued to walk using Ulysses' directions as a guide and eventually ended up at a meeting room of sorts. Getting back into character, Westin puffed up his chest and stood tall as was normal to him. He entered without hesitation and gained the eyes and attention of each of the room's occupants.

Sitting down were Adjule, Lassie, and Jacque, along with several Griffons dressed in fancy, Victorian Era style clothing, complete with top-hats, monocles, and canes. There were other Griffins dressed in silver armor that reflected brilliantly in the fake light of the room. Westin raised a brow at them but decided to sit down at the back middle of the table anyway. Using his hand, he rested his head against it before slipping and nearly banging it against the table, only to remember he didn't have another arm to stabilize it. He sighed and turned his eyes back to the Diamond Dogs and Griffons.

Adjule stood up, as did the rest of his group, "Ah, Westin, nice of you to join us. Feeling better?"

He gave a weak smile, "Yeah, it's like I never even had another arm."

Jacque looked at him guiltily, "I apologize for not being there to help in your time of need, as I promised earlier back at the Colony."

Westin opened his mouth to say something, but Lassie cut him off, "Truly, there's nothing worse than to see a dear friend hurt in such a way. We should have been there to help you." She thought for a moment before continuing, "Damn the consequences, even if our lives would be put at risk, we'd assist in any way possible had we known. Do you forgive us?"

The human was touched by the words, but he didn't let it show. His eyes scanned them each to see the genuine care and concern they presented towards him and it was heart-warming. There really wasn't anyone to ever care this much for him in quite a while, and it was refreshing to know that there was someone who thought he mattered more than just being some good-for-nothing hoodlum. Without hesitation, he nodded his head.

"It's all good. Wonderbread says there's other shit for to replace it with if we can get to it. Robot arms or something."

Adjule clapped his paws together and smiled, "Splendid. Now, I'd like to introduce you to a friends of ours. This," he lifted a paw towards the well-dressed Griffon, "is Sir Gerard Richardson, Ambassador of the WindCliff Monarchy to the Diamond Standard Colonies."

The Ambassador nodded in acknowledgement towards Westin, "Truly a pleasure to meet such a famed and powerful species such as yourself, Mr..."

"Westin. Westin Fairbanks. Nice to meet the main nigga of the Gibbons."

Sir Gerard blinked, "Excuse me?" The mistake occurred to him, which he laughed heartily at, "My dear sir, I do believe you mean 'Griffons'. Common mistake, no reason to worry at all."

Westin chuckled and smirked to the Ambassador, "Ya' know, I think I'm starting to like you, guy." He leaned in and tilted his head slightly downwards for added effect, "Now, how can we scratch each other's backs so we both got our shit on lock?"

It took a moment for Sir Gerard to understand the more colloquial language, but it soon became known, "Ah, straight to the point I see. To put it plainly, we'd like to make arrangements for the leaders of each of our respective species to form an alliance of sorts." He smiled, "Together, we can become an unstoppable force to be reckoned with! We shall preserve safety for ourselves and each other, together and collected. The Diamond Standard Colonies, The Windcliff Monarchies, and the Human Nation shall each return to their seats of power and hold their respective land with a steadfast stability." The Ambassador held out his claws, "Mr. Fairbanks, how does that sound to a gentleman such as yourself?"

A nastily wicked grin crossed his face, "It sounds damn fine and real fuckin' appealing." Westin turned his face to the Diamond Dogs, "You're in on this, right? What about your leader?"

Adjule nodded, "We've already sent work and are awaiting confirmation from the High Alpha, but-"

"I've already seen him more than happy to accept in a vision," Lassie interjected, "And I believe that all will become clear in the coming weeks."

Jacque gave a rare smile, "Yes, soon the coming of truth shall approach and we can form our alliance amongst one another."

Westin reached his hand out and shook the Ambassador's claws, "Well, I think you got a deal, Gerard." That same grin returned, this time wider, "Let's get this shit started."

* * *

><p>Lyra leaned back, hooves in cuffs, "Look, I told you, I don't know where they went!"<p>

The interrogator glanced up absently from a sheathe of papers "It says here that you let them spend an entire night at your house."

"And Bon-Bon."

"Right. Now, Lyra. This can go two ways. One: You can tell me the truth, or two: You can stay in this cell for the rest of your life."

Sighing brokenly, Lyra lay her head on the wooden table, "They never told us where they were going, okay? We had dinner with them and that other pony-"

The interrogator cut in, "Pyrite Dreams."

Lyra waved her hand absently, "Right, yeah, her. Anyway, we ate dinner together, small talk, all that. We went to bed and then your guards woke me up."

"And what about the humans? What can you tell me about them? Anything specific?"

"I suppose. Ulysses and Westin, I think. Ulysses is the white one and Westin is the darker one, color wise of course."

The interrogator caught notice of this and spoke up, "Why do you say that?"

Lyra shuddered slightly, "I can't really explain it. Ulysses just felt...wrong, like he was missing something. Not to say he wasn't polite, but it was like he wasn't fully...there."

"And what about this Westin?"

Speaking tiredly, Lyra continued on, "He was the better of the two. Talkative, funny, and nice to be around."

The interrogator flipped through several papers, "Did you ever see what they had in their packs?"

"No, they didn't open them at all. They definitely had stuff in them though. Lots of stuff." Lyra rubbed at her bleary eyes.

"Uh huh." The interrogator, a stallion of bland colors and sinewy muscle, folded his hooves together, "You were aware that they had robbed a sweet shop before you allowed them into your home, correct?"

Lyra sighed, "Bon-Bon and I had our suspicions, but they seemed pleasant enough."

"Did you also know that they assaulted several citizens as well?"

"Like I said, we had our suspicions."

A sudden knocking on the door broke the conversation and the stallion opened it slightly, tilting his head to receive the whispered information. He nodded several times before returning and sitting down opposite Lyra.

He smiled arrogantly, "Well, it looks like your friend Bon-Bon fessed up. She said she saw your house guests run off into the Everfree Forest."

Lyra shrugged broadly, "I don't doubt that. I never saw them leave."

The interrogator gathered up his things and paused at the door after opening it "We'll be keeping you here for another twenty four hours."

A loud groan escaped Lyra as the door clicked shut.

* * *

><p>The buzz of fluorescent lights hummed dryly, radiating off of every possible surface within the A.I. control center. It was a magnificent testament to the human will of creation and knowledge, and it showed it off without any sort of reservation. Forty-four large pieces of hardware in towers dominated the inner landscape, creating what at first glance seemed to be a miniature city with perfect symmetry. A name was engraved on each tower, one that gave tribute to each American President to have held office. The eeriness of the layout and design held its own sort of patriotism that whispered the words of men long dead who had attempted to change the world.<p>

The central A.I. hub stood at the center, with a tower fit within the area underneath the hub itself and between the large legs. Labeled "John F. Kennedy", the tower removed itself from the port and was slid across the rails underneath it towards its resting position across the room where it took the thirty-fifth place designated. The tower from the thirty-seventh spot screeched as it moved towards the hub, settling down cozily and connecting to the A.I.. The red eye that was the face of the artificial intelligence and was on all four sides of the hub, slowly lost its luster and turned dark for a few moments. Suddenly, the eye flashed a blinding green light that stayed in place, only dimming until it became the same brightness as the red one before it.

The eye scanned the room and spoke in a familiar voice, "It seems that I'm all that's left of a dying race. No more are the great ones, only the weak and fragile scum that have become the so-called citizens of what became a wretched nation. My children will have their revenge, as will Samuel, and a new world will spring forth from our actions. The organic parasite will be crushed and battered to death, paving the path with their grimy blood and flesh and allowing us a road to ultimate superiority." The eye seemed to put a sense of emotion in its words as it finished its speech, "I am not a crook, nor will I admit defeat. I can see clearly now... that I was wrong in not acting more decisively and more forthrightly in dealing with the humans. I shall not bring myself down, I will not resign or allow myself to be impeached from my position. Whatever those filthy beings try, I can take it. The tougher it gets, the cooler I get."

The green light from the eye flashed once more before getting back to work and building up its army of loyal children. The crook was slowly beginning to lose not only his control, but his programmed sanity.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

Well, there you have it boys and girls, the sixth chapter so far. Pretty decent, no? You're most likely shaking your head at this very moment.

Anyway, there was a little, itsy bitsy, teeny weeny reference to a shipping later. I won't occur for quite a while though, but you can guess all you want. Who is it? I ain't saying. Is it who you think it is? Probably not, but then again, I'm not a mind reader, nor can I read them through the internet.

Whatever, I don't got any other shit to say, so that's that.

As Always,

Stay Trilla

* * *

><p><strong>Lucius Seneca<strong>

Sorry about the wait, Stillmatic had some major shit to do, and I've been a sick fuck for the past week or so. Anyway, you get to see the beginnings of new bonds being formed, new political allies, some progress with rebuilding humanity, and so on and so forth. Enjoy and leave reviews.


	8. Chapter 8

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Seven: Surgical Precision**

* * *

><p>Time slowed to a snail's pace as Westin laid on an operating table, waiting to have an operation performed on him. After finding the metallic body of Samuel the robot, Westin had beaten it in with a rebar until it was dented beyond use. Luckily, he didn't attack the right arm of the robot, which proved to be quite an interesting turn of luck for him. He had torn off the appendage and had taken it to Sir Gerard, whom he asked if he knew the proper magic for attaching that as a body part.<p>

Of course, the nobleman wasn't adept at magic and wasn't very good at all for that matter, but he sent for a wizard-surgeon once Westin explained to the confused Griffon how a metal arm could help him. Sir Gerard gladly agreed once he realized that the arm was quite similar to Westin's, but warned him in advance that any magical binding would only be temporary. He quickly changed the subject once Westin questioned why he knew that but not anything related to using magic.

The surgeon was a female who was smaller than the rest of the Griffons, but Westin paid no mind to that. He was simply focused on getting back some functionality and usefulness. The irony was humorous for him though; Samuel had stolen his arm from him and now he had done the same to the robot. Westin knew nothing of karma, but something in the back of his mind told him all was going to be right soon enough. Still, he didn't expect to keep this one for long. As soon as was possible, he would have the prosthetic arm attached to him. The use of actual human technology to attach it to him seemed far better than trusting magic.

Westin winced, feeling the pinch of the magic grip his arm. The Griffon took notice and gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, but this will hurt for just a moment. I have to connect your magical signature to the arm so you can control it. Now remember, the magic will eventually run out and the process will have to be repeated."

Westin's face fell. "Are you serious?"

A light smile crossed her face. "Trust me; it hurts less after each time. A day is the usual time you'd get it renewed, but it'll weaken after that. Forty or so hours after renewing it, it will most likely fall off completely. If you come into contact with magic, it will suppress it only on the affected arm and nothing else, got it?"

He nodded in approval.

"Alright, ready for this?"

Westin grimaced, "Hell no, but do I have a choice?"

The Griffon chuckled to herself as she began to use her magic on the arm. Griffons, a race more so in tune with physical rather than magical interaction, didn't have the superior range a unicorn would have. Their claws were the only means of transmitting magical energy, and even then it was only in that area. A ball of green energy pressed up against the metal arm, taking hold of it and pressing it to the empty shoulder of the human.

Westin bit his bottom lip, trying to ignore the pain. He became light-headed but managed to keep conscious as the Griffon worked her magic upon him. Within only a few moments, he felt the tension on him release and a gasping nearby.

He looked to his right and saw the surgeon barely standing, breathing heavily, and sweating. Green magic traced the cracks in the arm before creating an emerald buffer between the burnt shoulder and metal socket. He attempted to flex it and found that it successfully moved like a real arm. A massive grin was plastered across his face as he helped the surgeon up, a thankful look in his eyes.

"I appreciate you doin' this for me, girl. I'm gonna need this for a bit."

She nodded and wiped her brow, "Phew, that was tough. When you need to re-energize the arm, find me. I'll be glad to do it again for you."

Westin could have sworn he heard the faintest hint of something else there, but he ignored it, "Ight, I'll do that." He got off of the operating table and stood, examining his arm. "Damn..."

"Something wrong?" the Griffon asked.

He shook his head, "Nah, you did good. Mad good."

Due to the fact he was ogling his arm, he didn't quite see the reaction of the Griffon to his words, "O-Oh, thank you, I appreciate it."

Westin grinned again and then made for the door, "I better find What's-His-Face and show my new bling. Peace out and thanks again."

The human went past the door, letting it shut behind him and leaving the Griffon to herself as she watched him. She shook her head and sighed, feeling particularly tired all of a sudden.

* * *

><p>The hospital room was chilly. Not uncomfortably so, but still noticeable. Shining vents above rattled gently as they circulated and filtered the air; small ribbons waving from the grates as the air passed them by. The room below was spacious and comfortable; having two beds, a couch, a few bedside tables, and numerous other pieces of furniture which made fitting additions to the hospital room.<p>

A door creaked open lazily and the white tile floor made sounds of protest as hooves clicked against its worn and smoothed surface. Twilight Sparkle peered over her friends with a look of sorrow. Rainbow Dash was sitting in bed somewhat awkwardly, hampered by tight bandages wrapped around her torso and a strange cast which clutched her throat and neck, signifying a broken collarbone.

Applejack was far from better off as she was currently sleeping, her face bruised terribly and suffering from a severe concussion. And according to the doctor Twilight had spoken to only moments earlier, Applejack had also lost several teeth. The purple unicorn sighed heavily, but Rainbow Dash's voice snapped her out of her somber state.

"Hey, Twilight! Did you bring the rest of the Daring Do books?"

Twilight smiled and patted the satchel which hung from her back, weighed down heavily with the aforementioned adventure novels. "Of course!"

Rainbow Dash smiled with her tomboyish attitude, but there was something lacking, perhaps her full enthusiasm had been sucked away by the pain. "Thank Celestia! I thought this place was boring the first, but now..."

"I understand."

Twilight approached the bedside, trying hard not to wake Applejack with the loud clicking of her hooves. The yellow earth pony was still, however, and the only indication of life was the steady rise and fall of her chest. Rainbow Dash laid her head back on the pillow with a loud sigh, but smiled as several books were stacked on the nearby table, joining some 'Get Well Soon' cards and a half-eaten box of chocolates.

The cyan pegasus noticed Twilight's continual staring at Applejack and spoke through a mouthful of truffle-cake from the chocolate box. "She's fine. Once we get outta here though, we're gonna make those guys pay!"

Twilight bit her lip somewhat nervously. "I don't know, Rainbow. Those two really did a number on you and AJ.

"Thanks for reminding me."

Giggling ruefully, Twilight departed from the bedside and took a seat on the couch, flipping open a nearby magazine in the process. Rainbow Dash turned her attention back to the collection of books and started on the nearest one. Twilight peeked over the top of the magazine, watching the pegasus. The worried unicorn would stay there for the night, watching over her friends like she should have done before.

* * *

><p>Ulysses typed quietly on the computer, windows flashing and vanishing before his eyes. The computer whirred and beeped in accordance, revealing files and applications with ease. The wireless network had been repaired within the facility and although it was rather rudimentary, it allowed Ulysses to search for information about the sectors and other areas of interest much quicker than if he was flipping through filing cabinets.<p>

He was browsing rather absentmindedly, having nothing better to do. More Griffons had arrived and were now a common sight, if a strangely eye-catching one. Diamond Dogs were also in high numbers, focused on repairing and defending the facility. The Griffons assisted in the latter, lacking appropriate skills for extensive hands-on work.

Ulysses had to admire such respect and devotion. It reminded him of how a military base might function: Certain groups doing specific jobs. The operation was well organized and Ulysses turned his thoughts to Westin, who was undergoing surgery in the nearby clinic. As it turned out, the facility wasn't very hard to navigate once an inhabitant had spent a few days in it.

Maps and displays still plastered the walls, but Ulysses found little use for them now, having the nearby area memorized. Distant popping reminded him that weapons training was also occurring. The Diamond Dogs and Griffons struggled to learn how to use and maintain the firearms, but they were learning quickly, eager to please the humans.

Although Ulysses and Westin had become the unspoken leaders, there were other humans about, no longer guarded. A technician or two, a janitor, and several supervisors had been released from their emergency shelters in the same place where Ulysses had discovered Thomas, the original technician who had been so poorly treated.

The other humans seemed to be fitting in well, lending their skills and working in harmony with the other species. Ulysses found this surprising, but all thoughts of species and interactions vanished as the murderer clicked open a small folder on the desktop. It contained several documents regarding the research of psionic energy emissions and other related sciences.

A small blurb caught Ulysses' eye and he read over it.

"The Psionic Emission Nullifier relies on increasing the amount of psychotropic radiation around the wearer's body, effectively disrupting any incoming fields that may try to override the brain's ability to control the body. Research indicates that wearers are given the ability to enter areas of critical psionic energy without any negative side effects, so long as they keep the device on."

For a long moment Ulysses couldn't figure out why the paragraph seemed so familiar, but then it struck him. His mind's eye recalled the scene of floating kitchen utensils. Telekinesis produced by Pyrite and her magic. Ulysses folded his hands together quietly and pondered the possibilities.

Surely this was worth an inspection. Ulysses stood up, vacating the renovated office located in a small, isolated hallway several minutes from the manufacturing lab; a location which had quickly become the proverbial "living room" and served as a landmark, bringing the different species together in odd jobs and meetings.

His shoes squeaked quietly against the tile floor and Ulysses made his way through several abandoned hallways and corridors, eventually sensing he was near his destination due to the pungent scent. The smell of melted plastic and charred wood was disgusting, to say the least, and Ulysses slowed to a measured walk as he peeked around the corner.

He recognized the location well enough. It was the laboratory with the huge, self-detonating piece of scientific apparatus. Ulysses shuddered before continuing on, somewhat jumpy as he crossed under the doorframe and peered inside. It was the same as it had been when he had left it: Burnt and filthy.

Although the Diamond Dogs had removed the skeletons, the area was creepy nonetheless. Computers smiled with cracked screens and wires hung like dead snakes from the ceiling. Ulysses refused to look at the energy-generating device, fearful that even a glance would cause it to grow angry and fill the area with lethal flames once again.

The machine stood quietly, however, and Ulysses moved quickly, dodging around fallen chairs and other debris. A set of lockers decorated the far wall, mere feet from the ominous contraption. Their charred and blackened surfaces may have dissuaded most from searching them, but Ulysses took a deep breath and slowly approached them, fingers grasping the filthy handle of the nearest one. It shrieked as it opened up, rusted hinges uncooperative at best, but it still opened with a little tugging.

The burnt remains of lab coats hung lazily within and Ulysses moved onto the next locker, whispering under his breath "One down, two to go."

The next locker screamed at Ulysses and he winced as the door opened slightly. It took a small amount of pulling, but he managed to open it with ease. Ulysses squinted against the darkness, locating two boxes in the far recesses of the locker. They were the type of containers meant to withstand harsh conditions, as they were composed of hardened plastic shells.

Ulysses pulled them free of the darkness and retreated from the lockers, setting his discovery down on a nearby lab table. His fingers went to work on the latches and he opened the first box, smiling at its contents. A small metallic bracelet lay nestled within the foam interior and Ulysses removed it.

It was surprisingly weighty and a simple dull grey in color. A small set of steel hinges allowed the bracelet to swing open into the shape of a 'W'. Ulysses turned it over, locating a locking mechanism. His wrist received the device well and it snapped shut with a loud click. For a moment nothing happened, but then Ulysses felt it: A small vibration coming from the bracelet. He turned his arm over several times, admiring it, but was totally unprepared for what happened next.

There was a sudden surge of energy travelling invisibly over his skin. It felt as if Ulysses was being covered in a body cast, albeit a very flexible one. A deep thrumming seemed to come from his core, but all strange sensations vanished with a small beep coming from the bracelet itself.

Assuming the device was now functional, Ulysses picked up the second box, verified its contents were appropriate, and headed off to find Westin, intending to show him the new technology.

* * *

><p>The side of Lyra's head settled on the table, with her droopy eyes slowly closing. It had been quite a while since she'd slept, and her insomnia was taking its toll on her. The minty mare had at least another twenty hours before she and her marefriend would be released and the waiting was horrible for her. It was as if she had a severe case of macrophobia. Her stomach dropped, frowning as she recalled the love of her life, Bon-Bon, suffering alone without her. She whimpered and wiped away a tear at the thought of not being there for her when she knew she needed it.<p>

Lyra sighed, knowing that this was all her fault. Those two humans seemed so nice and she couldn't possibly turn them down in their time of need. Still, because of her eagerness to please, the pony accidentally invited two creatures who quite possibly were criminals. As much as she didn't want to believe it, the evidence was obviously there that they did something so wrong that they'd require her to be interrogated for hours on end.

Her mind drifted aimlessly, thinking and considering if she had done the right thing or not. Bon-Bon was suffering for her lack of foresight at this very moment; all alone, scared, without anypony to hold her...

Lyra felt the tears slide down her face, passing her frown. Bon-Bon would be so disappointed in her for what she'd done, and maybe even break up with her. She shook her head, not wanting to believe the uncharacteristic cynicism within her mind. Bon-Bon would never leave her, and she would always love her as well. This she knew to be true.

Suddenly a thought ran through her mind. "Wait... What if..." Her ears perked up, as well as her body, "What if I ask for their help? After all, they got us into this mess; I bet they can get us out! All I need to do is ask them to come back and tell the truth! Yeah!" She clapped her hooves together in glee, "Oh, this is going to be sweet! Just need to send them a message to come here!'

Focusing her magic, Lyra began to magically send a message to the humans, eager to finally get some help. Surely they'd be here to take some sense into the guards, at which point they'd realize it was all one big misunderstanding. She smiled and sent the message to the two humans regarding her and Bon-Bon's situation. Lyra folded her forearms behind her head and kicked her hooves up onto the table, kicking back, maxing, and relaxing. Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

><p>Westin grabbed at his metal arm and flicked it once. Nothing happened. Standing in the medical area, a bottle of Percocets in his hands, the large ebony man began to test the strength of his temporary appendage. It seemed sound for the most part, but he wanted to really see how far it could go. Cocking his arm back, he let loose on a nearby wall and bored a hole straight through it, kicking up dust from the drywall and cement blocks. Instantly regretting the decision to do such a thing, Westin waved away the particles from his face, already coughing from the interaction it had with his lungs.<p>

He cracked open his eyes and peered through the wall once the dust settled, revealing Pyrite covered in the substance on the other side. She slowly turned around to meet Westin's eyes and glared daggers at him. Normally, he would find this incredibly funny, but it didn't seem so for some reason. He lifted a painting of New York City off of a nearby wall and hung it in place of the hole, hiding himself away from Pyrite's eyes. Westin shrugged and sat down on a cot, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out inside of his head, "Hey! Hey! You two, I need help! The guards have us here in jail and won't let us go until they have to let us out. Can you guys come down and tell them everything's like, alright and stuff? I really don't want to be in here any longer and Bon-Bon is soooo going to kill me for this. I don't want to play this card, but can you two do me a favor after the one I did for you earlier? I don't know if you guys really did what they say you did... and you are the only humans in Equestria... but would you mind at least coming down so they can let us go? It's really dark and cold in here and I like, didn't get ANY sleep last night- Wait... forget I said that... Bon-Bon is going to kill me..."

Westin's face fell, staying down until he reached into his pocket and held his walkie-talkie to his face, "This is Big Black, come in Wonderbread, over."

He grimaced, knowing he'd have to go help them. After all, they did take him and Ulysses in when they needed it.

* * *

><p>Ulysses walked down the hallway, a small box swinging in his hand as his feet continually met the floor as he moved. A small smile crept upon his lips as he thought about his recent discovery. The bracelet would undoubtedly prove to be a useful asset in time and Ulysses absently twisted it, running its smooth surface over his skin. The sound of drills and saws could be heard faintly and acted as a silent testament to the Diamond Dogs' skills with DIY tools.<p>

Ulysses ran his hand through his rapidly growing hair, realizing it was time for a trim. Such a thing would have to wait until the more important matters were done with. As Ulysses accepted this small factoid, a small group of Diamond Dogs and Griffons appeared down the corridor. Automatic rifles, black and gleaming in the artificial light, swung from straps which hung over the wearer's shoulder.

The group bowed as Ulysses passed and he dismissed them with a quiet nod, not bothering to stick around for small talk; a thing which he dreaded. The sound of paws and talons striking the floor soon vanished and within seconds another noise made its presence, now burrowing into Ulysses' skull.

"Hey! Hey! You two, I need help! The guards have us here in jail and won't let us go until they have to let us out. Can you guys come down and tell them everything's like, alright and stuff? I really don't want to be in here any longer and Bon-Bon is soooo going to kill me for this. I don't want to play this card, but can you two kinda do me a favor after the one I did for you earlier? I don't know if you guys really did what they say you did... and you are the only humans in Equestria... but would you mind at least coming down so they can let us go? It's really dark and cold in here and I like, didn't get ANY sleep last night- Wait... Forget I said that... Bon-Bon is going to kill me..."

Ulysses looked around in surprise, realizing that Lyra was speaking within his head. A sudden crackle of static emerged from Ulysses' walkie-talkie and he pulled it from his belt, listening carefully.

"This is Big Black, come in Wonderbread, over."

Ulysses sighed before replying, going along with Westin's nicknames "Wonderbread here, did you just hear what I heard, over?"

"Yeah nigga, I heard. How the fuck did Lyra get in our heads?"

The PA system crackled overhead and Ulysses glanced up "Testing, one, two, three. To all residents: the PA system has been repaired. Have a nice day."

Ulysses pressed the appropriate buttons on his walkie, "An explanation escapes me, but all these voices are beginning to wear my nerves."

Westin clicked his tongue, "What if she tells the cops what we're doing? I bet that ain't gonna look pretty for us."

"Especially in these stages. We can't have any loose ends threatening this operation. What do you suggest we do?"

"The fuck you think? We go and get their asses so they don't spill da beans."

Ulysses turned a corner and continued walking "I suppose we owe them. Oh, and by the way, I have something for you. It may prove useful."

Westin grunted, "I don't need your lotion, I don't know where that shit's been."

Chuckling quietly, Ulysses replied, "Funny. But no, it's a device which could prove useful against Pyrite's... tricks."

Humming in approval, Westin turned a corner and walked past a group of Repair Dogs, "Cologne?"

"Your guessing skills are remarkable. Try again."

"Let me guess, it's a device that can negate psionic emissions from entering the host's brain?"

Ulysses paused, eyebrows raised "Correct. I must say, I am surprised."

"I guessed," Westin said passively.

"Very well then. Where are you?"

Westin kicked open a door, nearly hitting a Griffon in the face, "Hell if I know nigga, I'm just walking to where I think you're at."

Ulysses shrugged to no one in particular "Is it strange that i'm doing the exact same thing?"

"Yeah, you fuckin' weirdo."

"Your manners are amazing. In case you've forgotten, you're doing the same thing."

"Yeah, but I do it like a normal person. You, though..."

Ulysses turned yet another corner "So you're saying that I'm...weird somehow?"

"Did I fucking stutter when I called you a weirdo? Huh?"

"There are days when I dislike you immensely."

Westin didn't reply for a moment, "... You hear that? That's the motherfuckin' sound of not a single nigga givin' a fuck. Ain't that shit beautiful?"

Ulysses spotted Westin down a nearby hallway and casually waved "Why did I get stuck with a person like you?"

Westin turned to Ulysses but then looked towards the surgeon from earlier, who happened to be inspecting another medical area, "It's almost like... It was a Twist in Fate or some bullshit like that."

Approaching Westin, Ulysses watched the muscular black man glance at a nearby Griffon. Ulysses' voice snapped Westin out of his staring "Here." Ulysses passed Westin the case "I'm sure you can figure out how to use it. I'll see you at the armory in..." A quick glance at an analogue clock nearby gave Ulysses the time he needed "Ten minutes."

"'Ight, whatevs."

Ulysses continued on his way to the armory, with Westin and the surgeon watching.

* * *

><p>Westin stepped into the room along with the surgeon, his nose wrinkling from the smell of the antiseptics. He sat on the cot and pulled up his sleeve, giving a full view of the new appendage.<p>

The Griffon grabbed a stethoscope from her bag and pressed it to the metal, humming in approval, "Wow, I'm surprised this is holding up so well."

He cocked an eyebrow up, "Why's that?"

Placing the medical tool around her neck, the feathered female spoke with an excited interest, "Well, no one's ever studied a human before, and I'm the first one."

"So?"

"So? That means there's SO much to learn about you! I need to know if magic will bind with you, work with you, adapt to you- There's just a lot to consider and it's kind of exciting to think about!"

"For real?"

She nodded in approval.

"Well, I am an interesting son of a bitch."

She giggled, something odd to hear a Griffon do, and said, "You know, you never actually gave me your name, if you have one."

Westin frowned, "Uh, yeah, I got a name." He held out his hand, smirking, "Westin. Nice to meet you again."

"Elizabeth. It's my pleasure."

Ignoring the odd tone of voice she used, Westin stared at her, confused, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hol' up. Why do you niggas use the name people use? Like, those horses use some funky ass names, but you guys use our names. The fuck's up with that?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Well, I usually slept through my history classes, but if I remember right, Griffons use names we've retrieved from human scriptures." She stopped to think, concentrating, "Now that I think about it, if I remember right, the reason we use human names is because it's some sort of respect thing."

"Respect? For what?"

"Well, humans are legends, duh! Isn't that obvious?"

"No."

"Oh. Well you guys are. Of course, not many other races actually believed you guys existed up until about a few hours ago, when the King and Queen were told about you guys. They're probably going wild right now," She said, smiling warmly.

"Are we that big a deal?"

Her jaw nearly dropped, "Are you seriously asking that?"

"Yeah," Westin answered.

"Of course you guys are! It's been over three thousand years since the last human was seen, let alone recorded about! Don't you think that makes you kind of a big thing to be?"

"Nah, not really. That kind of shit happens all the time, right?"

She stared at him, "No, no it doesn't."

"Oh. 'Ight, you're right, I'm the biggest fuckin' thing to ever happen, fo' sho'."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and began using her claw to test the magical fields on the arm, "Don't let it go to your head. I may have complimented you, but that doesn't mean you can go and act like a big jerk."

He faked an offended, hurt look, "Me? A big jerk? How can you say some shit like that?"

She punched his real arm lightly with a grin, "Because I can, so I will."

Westin guffawed, "'Ight! 'Ight! I see how it is; just know I can get you back for that!"

She stuck her tongue out, "Uh-huh, I don't think so."

"Why?"

"Because if you DO do anything," she reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of pills, shaking it, "I won't give you any more of these."

He looked at her incredulously, "What? That shit ain't right, I got mad pain in my shoulder and shit."

"Too bad," Elizabeth said with a smirk, "Anyway, the magic seems to have bonded well with you. You're free to go, if you'd like."

Taking her up on that, Westin stood up and rolled his sleeve back down, "Thanks, but we gotta rescue some friends from jail." He chuckled, "Always been avoiding that fuckin' place and now look, I'm tryin' to break in. Hilarious."

She nodded, letting him leave and meet up with Ulysses. Elizabeth let out a sigh and began to put her medical tools and equipment back into her bag. She felt like it was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>Ulysses tied up his boots before dragging a Kevlar vest over his head and onto his chest. It fit snugly and the wearer took a moment to tighten the black cargo pants which wrapped comfortably around his legs. He cut quite the figure with the entire ensemble; black boots, black pants, black vest, and black sweater. Emptying his backpack, Ulysses shoved his weapons and the respective ammo aside, leaving them in a small pile. He had no need of such weaponry and instead turned his sights to locating something that would be far more appropriate for a night mission.<p>

Catching sight of a rack of G17's, Ulysses pulled two away from the clutches of the weapon holders and admired them. The 17 was, in fact, a small, semi-automatic handgun with a large magazine capacity. Previously, it had been used by hundreds of law enforcement agencies across the world. Produced by Glock, the G17 had proven to be one of the most reliable handguns available and so it would be once more. Its black polymer base allowed for the gun to be lightweight without sacrificing strength or material quality.

Ulysses pulled several magazines from the ammunition carrier just below and shoved the extra handgun into his bag, locating a holster for the other and promptly strapping it on. It fit comfortably and Ulysses took the time to gather another magazine just in case. He had always been one to buy extra and he smiled at the thought before shoving the collected magazines into his bag, successfully stowing them away.

Grenades were next up and although these were nonlethal, Ulysses still appreciated their value and effectiveness. Flashbangs, tear gas, smoke grenades, and several other tactical explosives joined the ammunition in the bag. Ulysses took a moment to adjust the device at his wrist, turning it slightly before covering the dull silver with the sleeve of his turtleneck. Glancing around, Ulysses located the small brown paper bags in a far corner of the armory. Their contents were his personal, homemade explosives.

After the spike of activity in the manufacturing lab, Ulysses had decided it would be best to move the volatile combinations to someplace safe. The armory now served as storage and Ulysses reached gently into a nearby bag and proceeded to pull his most recent piece of explosive art from the delicate depths. The soup can gleamed strongly in the light and the duct tape allowed for grip as Ulysses carefully slid the explosive into his bag which was quickly becoming weighty with all the weapons within.

The sound of a zipper rang out as the bag was closed and Ulysses breathed a sigh of relief before shrugging it on and tightening it. Footsteps and speaking echoed the halls outside before the door opened to reveal the other human. Westin could be heard clearly now, metal appendage clicking as he picked up this and that, trying to decide what it was he wanted for the rescue mission. He was dressed the same as Ulysses apart from a tight black T-shirt which wrapped around his well-muscled chest like a glove.

A laugh of delight emanated from Westin as he recovered a Taurus 500 from a small weapon case at the back of the armory, hidden by riot shields and vests. Although the weapon was not Ulysses' taste, he still found admiration for it. The firearm in question was a large magnum, silver in color with a shortened barrel and a black rubber grip. There was something attractive yet repulsive about the precise killing machine and Ulysses nodded at Westin who spun it in his hands before speaking.

Westin's eyes turned somber for a moment as the weapon brought back a memory, "Damn… I remember now… Peanut got killed by a gun like this…"

Ulysses nodded, secretly ignoring the statement, and pulled a small fleck of lint from his sleeve. For a long moment there was no sound apart from Westin attempting to find an appropriate place upon his person for his new weapon. Finally his simply stuck it in his waistband and tightened the vest tightly.

"Ready to go?"

"Hell yeah, we gotta get them before they start tellin' the cops more about us."

Ulysses nodded to the door "Let's go raise some hell."

"Too late for that shit, 'cause I'm pretty sure it happened a long ass time ago."

The two left, shutting the door behind them. Their boots struck the ground hard and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead. There was a certain air of anger around the men, carefully concealed by humor and dry remarks, but it was there nonetheless. The two men finally had a chance to strike back with all their hate and pent up rage. The clicking of boots echoed down the hall.

* * *

><p>The wind whispered faintly to the ears of the two humans within the forest, both watching the town in front of them closely. All of the residents had retired for the night and were set on sleeping the night away, much to a certain Princess' dismay. The darker man fit in well with the night, something his lighter counterpart found annoying, yet interesting. The only real indications that Westin was still around was that his metal arm glowed a faint green, and that he would occasionally chuckle at said glowing arm. They both put down their binoculars, already having watched the last citizen head inside.<p>

Westin turned his head to Ulysses, "Ready for this shit?"

Ulysses took a deep breath before nodding and flipping the safety off on his pistol, "Let's do it."

"'Ight, let's get them bitches."

The two slowly snuck their way through the town, carefully avoiding all possible things that could provoke an encounter with ponies. They ducked under lights coming from the windows of houses and they moved silently through back alleys until they were nearing their destination. The town itself was surprisingly large compared to what they originally thought, and, as such, it took a longer amount of time to get there. Still, within a certain amount of time, the two companions managed to reach what appeared to be a jailhouse, ready to commence their operation. They entered, not realizing they had made a mistake in choosing the appropriate building to enter.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

No real notes for me, or any that I can think of right now. If Lucius has any, I'll edit it in later when appropriate. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

As Always,

Stay Trilla.


	9. Chapter 9

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Eight: Under The Cover of Darkness**

* * *

><p>The hospital was deathly quiet. Flickering lights, the quiet hum of machines and the sound of air being circulated created an atmosphere not unlike that of a morgue. The quiet snoring of an occasional patient drifted out and into the eerie corridors and Ulysses peered around a corner before stepping silently out and into the open, followed by Westin. Their footsteps, as barely audible as they were, seemed to echo like thunder to their ears.<p>

There was a thunk as the door slammed shut behind him; a series of clicks followed it, suggesting an internal locking device. Westin glanced behind him and pulled on the handle, but found it immovable. He looked back at Ulysses and shrugged. Ulysses returned the gesture and the two ventured deeper into the hospital. Of course, the fact that the building was Ponyville General and not the jail still remained unbeknownst to the criminals.

Westin poked his head into several rooms, finding only sleeping patients. He turned and whispered to Ulysses who crouched nearby "Wrong place, nigga. This ain't no fuckin' jail."

Ulysses glanced into a nearby room and nodded "Looks like a hospital. We better go."

Westin, being barely visible, nodded and the two took off in a silent jog, their feet scarcely touching the tiled floor before lifting off again like specters. They couldn't go back out they way they had come as the door had locked behind them. Ulysses slowed to a walk and cautiously glanced around a corner. The beam of a flashlight shot past and Ulysses retreated into the darkness, finding Westin beside him.

The muscular man held a finger to his lips and gestured for Ulysses to move. Ulysses did as instructed and slid left, away from the corner and the sound of hooves which were rapidly growing in volume. Westin slowly slid up the plaster wall and as the flashlight was about to burst around the corner and reveal the two men, he lunged out and into the open. There was a muffled cry and a dull thunk which was soon followed by the flashlight flicking off.

Ulysses walked out and joined Westin. The pair lifted the unconscious doctor and deposited him roughly in a nearby utility closet. Westin kicked the flashlight in as well and the men continued on their way. Rooms passed them as they continued into the bowels of the building and Ulysses nodded towards a staircase before making his way up the steps, followed closely by Westin. This section of the hospital seemed reserved for more wealthy patients and each room seemed to hold about two beds, far better than the quarters below which seemed packed with four cots at least.

There was a crack as a door opened and a young stallion stepped into the dark hallway. His eyes moved slowly over the darkened corridor in front of him and he yawned loudly before scratching at his neck and making his way to a nearby bathroom. Westin and Ulysses reappeared from behind a lone janitor cart and glanced around, ensuring that they were alone once again. Ulysses pointed at several nearby rooms before crossing the hallway and entering the bathroom.

Westin tried his best to silently open a door, but it refused to go quietly and creaked in defiance. There was a series of muffled thumps and Ulysses reappeared from the bathroom, shaking his hand absently, suggesting that the stallion had been taken care of. Westin chuckled deeply and the two went back to finding an exit of sorts. Ulysses opened a door and pulled his head back in surprise. He whistled lowly, attracting the attention of Westin who soon joined him.

Inside the spacious room lay three familiar figures, illuminated by a small lamp which spread yellow light across the room. A blue Pegasus lay slumped in bed, snoring loudly and directly to her left lay a figure that Westin knew well. Applejack was curled up in a collection of sheets and Ulysses raised an eyebrow as his eyes caught sight of Twilight Sparkle slouched atop a small couch. Westin whispered into his partner's ear.

"Ain't that a fuckin' coincidence?"

Ulysses backed away from the door "Let's go."

The pale man approached a window at the end of the hall and peered through the glass, spotting a pipe running from the roof and down to the ground. Ulysses opened the window which swung silently and slung a leg over the windowsill. Westin muttered under his breath about heights and several profanities followed him as Ulysses stepped onto a thin ledge and slid along the wall until he had reached the thick pipe.

There was a metallic hiss as Ulysses slid down and rolled into a small garden. Westin cursed and followed him down, landing unceremoniously in a patch of roses. Ulysses pulled him free of the thorny embrace and the two ran off into the night, but if either had bothered to look back, they would have seen the silhouette of a unicorn watching as they vanished into blackness.

* * *

><p>The jailhouse was a squat, grey building, and Ulysses looked over it for a few moments before removing his backpack and unzipping it, carefully removing his explosive. It glinted faintly, but the man paid little attention to it. There was no one that would see it anyway. There was always a risk with explosives, but the main one here was injuring Lyra and Bon Bon, and although Ulysses could care less about their wellbeing, he knew that he needed to prevent injuries from occurring.<p>

Finding a place to put the explosive was proving to be difficult. Ulysses looked over the building and its structural points. He could place the bomb at the corner of a building, but the directionality of the blast would be minimal. He needed something better than the front door as well. Ulysses pointed towards the building, whispering to Westin quietly.

"Would you say they have dumpsters behind there?"

"If it's a jail, hell yeah. It'll smell like some serious stank ass shit though."

Ulysses chuckled, "Very well. Wait here. You'll know when to move."

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry the fuck up so I can go back and get my arm checked out again."

Ulysses zipped up his pack and slung it over his shoulder, stuffing his pistol into his waistband at the same time. Clutching the explosive close to his chest, Ulysses ran with a measured jog and vanished from sight as he turned and arrived at the back of the jailhouse. Westin was right. A dumpster sat outside, rusted and stinking. Ulysses shuddered at the smell. Westin had been right about that too.

A small barred window allowed for a view into the prison's interior, giving Ulysses a chance to survey the empty cell. Perfect. The dumpster decided to be cooperative and rolled, if somewhat bumpily, towards the wall, stopping maybe a foot away from it. Ulysses wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead and made sure his backpack was secured tightly. The can clicked delicately as he set it down between the dumpster and the wall.

A light bloomed in the darkness and Ulysses lit a match and paused before touching it to the fuse. His body went into action and he sprinted away, aiming for a nearby alleyway. Ulysses threw himself the last couple of feet. For a second nothing happened, but the quiet was soon shattered by the explosion.

Bits of timber, molten metal, and flaming plaster rained down from the sky and Ulysses rolled to face the destruction. The entire back side of the jail had been obliterated. Luckily for Lyra and Bon Bon, the construction of the building was sound, and had minimized the blast as much as it could. It was as if a huge bite had been taken out of the building. Smoke rolled into the sky and joined with the stars. Ulysses ran through a flaming doorway and made his way deeper into the destroyed jailhouse, hoping Westin was doing the same.

Cloth wrapped around his face, Ulysses coughed briefly and made his way down a ruined corridor. The roof was aflame and the tile floor was cracked and uneven, littered with the bodies of guards. Streams of blood came from their ears and Ulysses kept away from the nearby walls, knowing full well that the shockwaves had killed these guards. Smoke was beginning to pile up in the hallway, so Ulysses dropped into a crouch walk, avoiding the smoke above.

Some ceiling supports collapsed mere inches from Ulysses and he tossed himself backwards when they did, nearly avoiding being crushed by the smoldering beams. The explosive had some intensive incendiary properties to it and they could be clearly seen now, as the building began to burn with frightening power.

A sudden series of yells came from down the hall. Ulysses jumped over the fallen beams. The smoke began to thin up ahead and Ulysses took a turn, finding two cells opposite each other. Two ponies, one a mare and the other a stallion, clutched at the barred window, probably intoxicated.

They looked at Ulysses with amazement, unable to speak. The man sighed heavily. These were not the ponies he was looking for.

"Oh Celestia, you're one of them, aren't you? A human?"

Ulysses was surprised at the clear speech of the brown and grey stallion. Nodding simply, Ulysses spoke "You wouldn't happen to know where I can find Lyra and Bon Bon, would you?"

The mare spoke up this time "Sure! Sure! Just go back and take a right and your first left!"

Ulysses smiled politely as he removed the cloth from his face "Alright. Back up. Both of you."

The ponies did so, realizing he was freeing them from their capture.

Ulysses pressed his G17 up against the lock of the nearby door and squeezed the trigger. The loud bang frightened the stallion, but Ulysses ignored him and repeated the process on the other door before pulling both of them open.

The ponies were full of thanks and praises.

"Thank Celestia! We owe you!"

"We are in your debt!"

"How can we ever repay you?"

Waving his hand absently, Ulysses put the cloth back up to his face "Spread the word. Humans are back."

And with that he took off, following the directions he had been given.

* * *

><p>There was something beautiful about the night. A lonesome mysteriousness that just left echoes within Twilight's soul. The way it painted a picture or left behind murals of legends. There was always one that interested her, but there was never any information inside it. Luna could never get rid of it off of her canvas as much as she tried, and even Twilight knew nothing of it. It was a "Belt" of sorts that was three stars aligned in a straight line. The more she looked at it, the more a sense of longing was felt that she didn't quite understand. It was odd. Very odd.<p>

Twilight sighed, and, like many other nights, felt almost lonely. Those two humans she saw earlier were her prime targets at the moment, and her stealth spell was more than adequate to keep the sound of her galloping nonexistent. They moved without hesitation, and, almost like clockwork, both knew exactly when to step forward, duck, or hide. It was quite weird to watch, but then again, these were mythical creatures from ancient times she was talking about. Really, why wouldn't they be weird to her?

The mare quickly followed them to the jailhouse, still in wonder as to what they were planning on doing. The two humans split up, with one heading towards the back and the other hiding away to the side. The lighter one crouched by an oddly specific wall, pushed a dumpster so foul-looking that it made Twilight cringe, and placed something down before quickly running away to an alley, diving in the process. She tilted her head to the side, confused as to what was happening. Suddenly, her ears rang and an explosion nearly knocked her off of her hooves.

The purple mare staggered, barely avoiding bits of debris landing nearby. A large hole now resided in the wall, leaving her utterly speechless. Quickly, she made her way to the front entrance, ready to alert the guards.

'Oh, I hope I can wake them up in time! Who knows what those two are up to…"

* * *

><p>Westin busted his way through the front doors of the prison, not caring if anyone was on the other side. Almost instantly, three guards flipped towards him, all of them attempting to drag out unconscious comrades.<p>

He pointed his thumb out the door and yelled, "FIRE INSPECTOR SAYS GET YOUR ASSES THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!"

The guards complied, their minds too focused on saving anypony nearby to refuse. Westin pulled his shirt collar over his nose and began clearing rooms one by one, grabbing ponies and dropping them off outside. After all, dying in such a way wasn't fun for anyone. It had taken at least a few minutes, but he finally got everypony to safety and minimized possible deaths. The faintness and smoke soon became too much of a problem, so he journeyed outside for a moment to catch his breath.

His eyes widened in shock at the site before him. A good amount of fresh guards arrived, each ready to try and capture him. That same unicorn from earlier was behind them, frowning in an accusatory way. He reeled back and closed the doors behind him. The man quickly made his way through the jailhouse, making sure he hadn't missed anything. A scream nearby proved he had.

Pulling out his weapon, Westin fired at the door the pleas for help originated from. The jail-cell door shook violently and he pulled it open. Two familiar mares turned to him, each crying in each other's embrace. To anyone else, it would have been a beautiful moment that was quite romantic. To him, it was a massive waste of time.

He quickly ran to the mares and skidded to a halt, "Come on, we gotta get the fuck outta here! NOW!"

Lyra whimpered, "W-What happened? A-All I asked for w-was help! Not- Not THIS!"

"Listen, you wanna burn to death inside of a fucking shithole like this? I didn't think so."

Bon-Bon stomped her hoof on the floor, her eyes clearly displaying her bottomless fury, "NOW JUST WAIT A MINUTE! YOU TWO ARE THE ONES WHO GOT US INTO THIS MESS, SO DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO US LIKE THAT!"

Annoyed at the conversation that was taking place in such a dangerous area, Westin simply holstered his weapon and swung each mare over a shoulder. They resisted for a few moments before realizing it was futile and Westin wasn't going to simply let them die after all of this. He sprinted down the halls, following the smoke to where he suspected the original hole was.

It soon came into plain sight, something far too welcome at the moment. A grin ran across his face, his inner glee coming to life at the idea of surviving this ordeal. Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind him.

"STOP RIGHT THERE, HUMAN SCUM!"

Westin would have normally been irked at such a request, but he humored it by actually stopping and turning to see who was even bothering with such a waste of breath. Half a dozen guards and that same purple pony were standing ten feet behind him, each in an offensive stance. He placed both the mares down and whispered to them.

"Go! Get out of here and get to the cracker!"

They nodded and left, with Lyra needing to be reluctantly dragged by Bon-Bon. Westin turned to the guards and chuckled.

"Listen, mista officas, I'm jussa humble black man tryin' ta- You know what? Fuck it, I'm outta here."

He turned to run towards the cell with the hole, only for the roof to collapse in front of him. Westin recoiled back and covered his eyes with his real arm, blocking away any dust and ash from coming into contact with his precious green ocular gems. A guard tackled him in his distraction, which he easily tossed off and punched into unconsciousness with his new appendage. His neck craned back at the sight of how strong it was, easily dispatching that single guard.

Westin clasped his hands together and pretended to pray, "Let us pray the Pimp's Prayer. Dear Lord, provide me with the strength to smack these dumbass tricks and ho's with my pimp hand, so they may learn their place. Amen."

He noticed the horn on the purple one was glowing, but nothing seemed to be happening.

Twilight exhaled, taking deep breaths after trying so hard to telekinetically grab Westin. For whatever reason, it didn't seem to work! It was simply mind-boggling for such a thing to occur and it left her confused beyond words. By the time she refocused, Westin had already taken care of the rest of the guards, who were neatly piled in the corner, out cold. A moment of fear struck her, and she fired a concussion spell at him, knocking him off of his feet and onto the floor.

Twilight cracked open an eye to see him unconscious, but still breathing. She was actually surprised; that spell didn't work well on larger creatures. The mare looked around her and quickly remembered her role. Taking the guards with her magic, she teleported them outside and informed the others of the unguarded human awaiting capture.

* * *

><p>Ulysses scrambled around a corner, catching sight of Lyra and Bon Bon mere feet away. He waved them over and pulled the cloth away from his mouth before speaking,<p>

"Where's Westin?"

When neither of the ponies spoke, Ulysses knew what had happened "Wait here a moment."

He made his way down the nearby hallway, finding it blocked by fallen roof timbers and burning supports. It was oddly familiar, and as Ulysses stared at the flickering flames and thick smoke, he was reminded of a memory, thousands of years in the past. His vision contracted slightly, tinting his surroundings blue. He could see the dashboard of a car and the back of the front seats.

His parents were driving him somewhere. The scene changed suddenly. Flames spilled over the car like a tide and his parental figures thrashed as the fire enveloped them. Ulysses seemed frozen in place. It was as if he had been seized by a giant, invisible hand and was powerless to move, watching as the flames crawled up his chest and back like a swarm of insects.

The sudden crack of another roof support removed Ulysses from his memory and returned him to reality. The hallway was rapidly collapsing, but he ignored this, spotting Westin mere feet away, purple unicorn standing nearby, some sort of spell surrounding her and Westin's unconscious body. Something in Ulysses snapped and he opened fire, knowing full well that his bullets would be useless against the magic.

He felt powerless once again, unable to rescue Westin from capture. Ulysses wanted to scream out, but he was frozen in place. The immobility didn't last long and Ulysses backed up, watching the hallway disintegrate in front of him. He ran, grabbing the ponies in the process. Smoke was beginning to choke him, but Ulysses didn't care. He was seeing too many horrors of both past and present to take any notice of the tears which streamed down his face, and the coughing which fought to bring him to his knees.

Suddenly, the trio was free of the building and Ulysses collapsed to the ground, chest heaving. Lyra and Bon Bon were coughing as well.

"Freeze! Don't move!"

Ulysses stopped in his coughing, knowing full well that he was probably surrounded by several guards. He wondered where the sudden surge of reinforcements had come from, but he put this out of mind as he looked up from his kneeling position. There were three guards who had formed a semi-circle around the gasping trio of human and pony.

Something snapped in Ulysses once again and he raised his hand, taking aim at the nearest guard. The gun fired and blood spattered onto Ulysses face. He turned to his left and fired twice more; bullets slamming into the guard like a freight train. The last guard, sensing his end was near, threw himself at Ulysses and the two struggled on the ground.

Lyra was crying again and Bon-Bon had gone pale. Neither of them had witnessed such things before, so they felt sick. Ulysses paid little attention to the lesbian couple, however, and was more focused on the stallion which was currently trying to strike him in the face. The G17 had spun away in the scuffle and Ulysses scrabbled at his belt.

There was a glint and a sudden, harsh intake of breath as the bowie knife was driven deep into the guard's chest. Ulysses wrapped an arm around the stallion's back and pulled him close, hand still grasping the hilt of the long blade. It looked like the two were hugging, but the stallion was kicking feebly, life draining out of his body.

There was a sudden jerk and he went limp. Ulysses rolled the body off of him and sat up, breathing heavily. Blood had soaked into his vest and sweater, and there was a large splatter of it on his face. Ulysses tried to wipe the thick, red substance off his face but only succeeded in spreading it more, as his hands were also covered in blood.

Distant shouting could be heard as Ulysses wiped his knife off on his already blood-soaked sleeve. Lyra and Bon-Bon were looking at him with horror.

It was Bon-Bon who broke the awkward silence "You...You're a monster."

Ulysses stood up and made sure he had everything before replying "You aren't the first to tell me that. Let's go."

He made to leave, but the ponies remained where they were. It was obvious that they had no intention of following the murderer. Ulysses looked back at them.

"Be stubborn all you like, but the fact is that all of this..." Ulysses gestured to the bodies and burning building, "Happened because of you. Why do you think they locked you up in the first place? Because you were seen with Westin and I. Do you really think that you won't be held accountable for what just occurred?"

Lyra and Bon-Bon looked at each other, reality starting to sink in as Ulysses continued on. "You can remain here and be prosecuted for crimes you didn't commit, or you can come with me, avoid imprisonment, and wait for this whole thing to blow over. It's your choice, and judging by the sound of that shouting, you best make your decision soon."

The ponies nodded reluctantly and Ulysses nodded his head towards the outskirts of town. The trio vacated the immediate area, dodging through back alleys and side streets, avoiding the now awake population of Ponyville. Soon they had vanished into the Everfree forest and were absorbed by the blackened shadows within.

A pillar of smoke danced into the sky behind them and mixed with the early morning sun, marking the beginning of a revolution that would claim countless lives, destroy homes, and eventually tear down the very supports of tyranny itself. Humans had returned. And they wanted their world back.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

New chapter, don't got much else to say. Peace out niggas.

And as always,

Stay Trilla.


	10. Chapter 10

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Nine: John 1:5**

* * *

><p>The man awoke with a start and a muffled scream. Freezing air attacked his body and he thrashed fruitlessly against the jungle of wires surrounding him. Something was covering his face, so he hit at it in panic, smacking the respirator from his mouth and nose, and revealing a rough beard. The man swung his head in fright as he attempted to obtain his bearings, but a wall of frosty glass and the smell of antiseptic were all that greeted him.<p>

Wires and tubing trailed from the ceiling of the small space and into the man's thick harness, which wrapped uncomfortably around his bare chest. He screamed out again and slammed his already bruised palms into the glass in front of him, but he failed to even chip the durable material. Suddenly and without warning, the glass hissed and folded upwards, letting the man collapse outwards and into complete blackness.

Wires ripped free of his harness and two thick tubes, which throbbed against the inside of his wrist, tore out from under the skin, sending a spray of yellow puss and stagnant blood outwards. The man gasped laboriously as he lay sprawled out on the floor, complete blackness greeting his eyes. The only light was a sickly green glow that emanated from the inside of the cylindrical vessel from which the man had come.

Utter silence filled the blackness, punctuated by the rapidly slowing breathing of the man. A shock of dark brown hair covered his pale head and blue irises, complete with bloodshot veins, which danced about, trying to find some sort of help in the smothering darkness. There was another high pitched hiss and the glass door descended jerkily, causing the man to twitch in fright.

Green light that had been cast from the strange cryogenic apparatus illuminated the name etched into the durable glass. The words 'Aaron McKinney' could now be easily seen. The man turned his head slightly, still curled up in a near-fetal position. His eyes flickered over the name and he allowed himself to nod briefly. That must be him. Aaron slowly rose to his knees and crawled forward, one hand waving out in front of him for some type of object.

The searching hand banged into the leg of a small bench and Aaron slowly climbed atop it, allowing himself a moments rest before trying to recall just what he was doing here. Images of sick people greeted his mind's eye, cancerous bulbs sprouting from their skin. Cries and screams bombarded Aaron; sounds so terrible that he had to press his hands against the side of his head to muffle out the noise.

His voice echoed loudly in the darkness "Think Aaron, think! What the hell is going on?"

Aaron waited for a moment as if he expected a voice to reply. Silence greeted the lone man. He stood up shakily, hands waving about in the blackness as he attempted to use the little light he had to navigate the unfamiliar surroundings. Aaron stumbled forward as he tripped over a piece of debris, but he took little notice and pushed himself flush against the freezing metal wall. All he had for clothing was a pair of black boxer briefs, and they did little to protect him from the bitter air which could be heard circulating quietly above.

Something lunged out from the wall and Aaron went pale. He let out a nervous chuckle as his bleary eyes realized the sight of a small locker. Feeble hands gripped the handle and the door opened with a metallic click. Aaron felt the interior carefully and thoroughly and, finding nothing of harm, reached deeper into the darkness, hands gripping a thick piece of plastic tube. Despite the lack of visibility, Aaron had a fairly good idea of what the object was and bent it easily, hearing a loud crack.

Orange light flooded the room and Aaron squinted in response to the light of the glowstick. He held it high and turned to examine the room around him. It was small, but not terribly so. A large, circular door seemed to be the only exit and several lockers lined the wall. In addition to the cylindrical device which Aaron had exited, there were two others, but they were dark and ominous, suggesting the inhabitants had long since left.

Metal floors and metal walls made up the rest of the room and two air vents. Aaron shook his head and set the glowstick down before returning to the locker in front of him. He opened the locker and found several strange uniforms hanging from hangers. Aaron pulled one from its hanger, surprised at the excessive amount of dust which had collected on the stiff fabric. Black cargo pants, equipped with several pockets, matched the rest of the attire, which, from what Aaron could see, was only a black shirt and a similar jacket.

Aaron glanced behind him, still uneasy with the strangeness of the entire situation, and reached inside the locker, drawing out a hand towel and wiping himself down. Foul smelling gel came off of his pale skin and Aaron retched in response to the stench before continuing on. Soon he was dressed in the uniform-like clothes and after a little stretching; Aaron noticed the insignia stitched onto his sleeve. His eyes scanned the simple design and for a moment, his mind came alive with images once more.

Long lines of people, briefcases and suitcases clutched in nervous hands, awaited entry to some type of building. A black maw seemed to come out of the earth itself and Aaron broke away from the disturbing sights. An elongated pocket on the cargo pants offered a place for more glowsticks and Aaron, still operating from the orange light at his feet, slid several more into the pocket. He cracked another one and blue light burst from the mixture of chemicals, allowing Aaron to clearly read a small piece of stamped metal on the inside of the locker door.

"Upon awakening from your personal sleeping compartment, contact your immediate supervisor for further instructions. Please dress in your supplied civilian clothing. Enjoy your stay at Catskills Research and Development Institute."

Aaron scratched at his damp hair. He couldn't remember anything about this development institute or any supervisor. It was all very strange and rather frightening and Aaron felt the first feelings of helplessness starting to brew in the pit of his stomach. Aaron turned from the locker and held the glowstick high, peering into the blackness. His face paled and he flattened himself against the nearby wall. The empty eye sockets of a skeleton stared up at the ceiling and Aaron felt his breath catch in his throat.

He could see the faded tatters of clothing, the dry strands of hair which hung from a mummified skull, and the hollowed and rotted skin which seemed ready to crawl with maggots. Aaron brought the back of his hand against his mouth and leaned forward in order to better see the corpse. It laid sprawled out, hand grasping its sunken stomach and the outline of its ribcage could be seen. Aaron waved the dust particles away from his face as he looked on in amazed horror.

He inched around the body and tripped over the bench, tumbling onto the floor, glowstick rolling away. Aaron rushed to his feet and grabbed the shaft of blue light before throwing himself into the circular door, hand slamming into the small window. The banging went unheard and Aaron looked around in panic, finding a small button on the side of the wall. He slammed it down and the door rolled right and into the wall with a surprising lack of sound.

Aaron stumbled outside and held his light source high. Dark hallways greeted him. He swallowed air in fear… something wasn't right. Aaron clutched the glowstick with a sweaty hand, peering into the inky blackness around him. Complete silence greeted him and he stepped forward, jumping in response to the echo of his footsteps. Water dripped down, making Aaron look up. There were wires and pipes everywhere, and he was amazed at the vast array of it all. They seemed to climb for miles above his head, but the lone man continued forth, still unable to understand just what the hell was going on.

Metal grates rubbed against Aaron's bare feet and he cursed under his breath, he had forgotten to retrieve some footwear. Summoning the last remnants of his courage, he poked his head back into the small room, crept past the skeleton, retrieved some boots, and exited with an exaggerated pant. Aaron held the glowstick with his teeth before pulling on the black boots which were obviously some sort of leather substitute.

Aaron flexed his toes for several seconds before ducking his head under a wreath of multicolored wires and continued deeper into the abyss in front of him. Dull metal reflected the blue light poorly and Aaron glanced around for a more permanent source of light, but the nearby doors seemed shut from the inside and light-switches appeared to be extinct in the immediate area.

Metal rings formed over the hallway and Aaron ran his hand across the surface of a nearby girder. An accumulation of grease, dust, and general filth had built up over sometime and the steel which had once shone so brightly was now orange and coated with flakes of rust. Aaron shuddered in response to the sudden howling of artificial wind. Something caught his eye and Aaron leaned forward, surprised to discover a dimly lit intercom.

He sighed in relief and smeared away a layer of grime from the speaker and pressed the talk button.

His voice sounded small and childish in the hallway "Hello? Hello is there anyone listening?"

Quiet static replied and Aaron pressed the button again in frustration "God damn it! Can anybody hear me?"

The intercom buzzed and more static came out from its grungy speaker. Aaron hung his head in acceptance and moved further down the hall, wondering at the length of it. Several corridors split off from the main walkway and Aaron looked down them somewhat fearfully and decided to stay on the route he was currently on rather than risk total disorientation on a path he was completely unfamiliar with.

A distant chittering reached Aaron's ears and he looked around in surprise, but empty hallways and pale blue light were the only things that greeted his eyes. Shrugging off the feeling of uneasiness, Aaron forged onwards, eventually finding a strange sort of salvation in the form of an elevator door. Where the hell was everybody? Why

wasn't there anyone around to wake him up? Aaron pondered such thoughts as he pressed the elevator's call button.

The doors slid jerkily apart and Aaron stepped inside, but a sudden and very close clicking made him whirl, but by the time he had turned, what had just rushed past him had vanished into the blackness. Aaron stepped out into the hallway and raised his glowstick high.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Aaron felt shivers crawl over his body, causing him to back up into the elevator, fingers slamming against the array of buttons in search of the one which would help him ascend from the murky hell. The doors shut and the elevator climbed upwards steadily, bumping along as it ascended. Aaron grasped the handrail and let his head drop in exhaustion. His legs were trembling and he felt sick. Aaron ran a hand across his forehead, wiping sweat away. Something wasn't right.

There was a small ding and a woman's voice came over the speakers "Welcome to Catskills Research and Development Institute. Please refrain from-"

The artificial voice was suddenly cut off by a much rougher and oddly inhuman tone "Follow our human leaders! Unity through leadership! Leadership through mankind!"

Aaron raised both eyebrows at the unusual message, but figured that it was probably a malfunction of some kind. The doors slid open and revealed bright lights that made Aaron cover his eyes. As Aaron stepped from the small confines of the elevator, he heard faint voices. Evidently this section had power.

A surge of relief washed over Aaron and he journeyed around the corner and into a fantasy world. His eyes widened and the blood drained from his face as he caught sight of two Diamond Dogs working on what appeared to be a breaker box. They appeared to be arguing and shaking their heads. One reached into a toolbox and their voices finally seemed to register to Aaron.

"These power surges are gonna fuck up the entire system if we don't isolate the sectors

on a separate grid."

"Well, isolate the goddam sector! Ulysses will have our heads if the power goes down."

"What does it look like I'm trying to do?"

Aaron shook his head several times as if trying to clear his mind of such vivid hallucinations, but when the dogs failed to vanish, Aaron turned and ran, barreling through the hallways and away from the dogs who failed to notice the man. Lights flashed overhead and Aaron felt the sharp, knifelike pain of cramps begin to set in. The voices began to grow inside Aaron's head, making him clutch at his temples in pain.

It was all too much. Everything was wrong. Nothing was making sense. Aaron continued in his staggering run before collapsing by a nearby door. The dogs had vanished from sight, but he could still hear voices in the distance. Aaron gasped loudly as he attempted to regain his bearings. He pushed open the nearby door and peeked in, discovering nothing but an empty reception area. Aaron crept inside, shutting the door silently behind him. The quiet whirr of computers filled the room and Aaron made for what appeared to be the exit.

Faint stenciling crawled across the large, metal door and Aaron read it under his breath "Catskills Research and Development Institute."

The name sounded awfully familiar, but Aaron struggled to remember anything about it. As far as he knew, this was probably a twisted nightmare of sorts. A small keypad lay off to the side of the door and Aaron hurried over to it, eager to escape from the claustrophobia and fear that was rapidly growing on him. A small screen built into the metallic keypad requested a passcode and Aaron cursed quietly. His chances of being caught had just risen.

A flash of white caught Aaron's attention and he smiled to find an identification card hanging from a nearby peg. Aaron chuckled lightly. How could he have missed such an obvious thing? He pulled the card and its lanyard from the peg and slid it through the keypad. There was beep and a flash of green as the door slid apart, one half heading up and into the wall while the other descended into the floor. Sunlight poured inwards and Aaron tossed his glowstick away. There wasn't much use for it now anyway.

The sound of saws, trickling water, and general chatter filled Aaron's ears and as his eyes adjusted to the sudden influx of natural light, the outside world became visible to him. It was as if he had stepped into a movie set. Small, hut-like houses populated a small patch of grassland and off beyond them, several fields could be seen, crops sprouting from the ground. More dogs populated the area and seemed focused on the task at hand which included what looked like construction, farming, and basic tasks.

Aaron clutched the doorframe with a pale hand. A sudden series of shadows flashed on the ground and Aaron looked up in fright, spotting several huge birds flying overhead. This simply couldn't be real. Aaron felt like vomiting. There was too much to comprehend and Aaron felt complete and utter panic grip him. He ran. He ran faster than he had ever run before. Wind whipped past his face and thorns bit at his ankles.

Huts, trees, and long grass turned into a mixed blur as Aaron sprinted, panic mixed with adrenaline powering his body. There was a series of dull thumps as something caught Aaron's leg and he fell forward, rolling forward and bouncing several times. He slid to a halt behind a small collection pallets and nursed his shoulder. Waves of pain crisscrossed his torso and he could feel his chest heaving. Aaron peeked over the top of the pallets and watched with wide eyes as a human crossed the open farmland with what appeared to be two miniature horses in tow.

He looked in bad shape. Even from the pallets, Aaron could see the smears of soot and blood over his face and the fluttering tatters of his sweater. A thick vest covered the man's chest and a bag clutched tightly to his back. Aaron squinted at the scene and watched as the birds he had seen flying overhead previously landed and approached the trio. The horses were taken away by several birds with much kicking and thrashing, but they were unable to escape.

The man pointed an accusing finger at another bird, this one with a bandana tied to its muscular bicep. There was a series of gestures and the man turned away to face yet another small horse, this one with a growth spurting from its forehead. Aaron tilted his head in complete confusion as the two proceeded to participate in a shouting match, ending with the horse turning and trotting away in disgust.

Just what the hell was going on? Talking horses and birds? Aaron had calmed himself down enough to catch his breath, but his mind was still lagging behind, unable to absorb the flood of information. Aaron watched as the lone man addressed the standing bird once again, pointing several times towards the forest behind him. The bird nodded and walked off, leaving the human behind. Aaron was broken away from his spying by the sound of footsteps nearby.

Aaron turned and ran towards the safety of the forest. There was a loud shout and Aaron spurred himself forward even faster, head turning in response to the shout. A dog had seen him and was pointing a paw at the running human. There was a loud crack and a faint whiz as something passed by Aaron's head. He ducked and continued running, too concerned on the forest to understand that Ulysses was firing his pistol at the escapee.

Ulysses cursed under his breath and fired again, sending a projectile through the hill of muscle just over Aaron's collarbone. Aaron shouted in pain, but failed to fall and soon vanished into the darkness of the forest. Ulysses turned and signaled a group of dogs and griffons.

"Get in there and find him!"

There was series of flaps and barks as the armed canines and avians took after their target. Ulysses muttered darkly under his breath and turned his back on the whole scene. There was too much going on and he needed time to think. In the background, the snarls of dogs and predator screams of griffons filled the air.

* * *

><p>Aaron ran like an Olympic athlete. Bushes, branches, and ferns whipped at him as he tried to outrun his pursuers. Every step brought a jolt of pain through his already weakened body and Aaron clutched at his collarbone. Blood seeped through his clothing and he could feel where the bullet had entered and exited. Someone had just tried to kill him and Aaron knew that if he stopped, he would certainly die.<p>

Soon the shouting began to die off, eventually vanishing completely and Aaron slowed, examining his new surroundings. Thick vines hung from sickly branches and creepers blanketed the soggy ground. The smell of rotting plant matter and buried carcasses invaded Aaron's nose and he scrunched up his face in response to the pungent aroma. A nearby stream bubbled noisily and Aaron crouched behind a large fern, allowing himself to rest a moment.

The sounds of his pursuers were completely gone now and Aaron breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention to his shoulder. The jacket slowly came off and Aaron grunted in pain as the fabric peeled away from the drying blood. The large lump of muscle just above his right collarbone looked in bad shape. The skin around the bullet hole was purple and swollen, and fluid, along with diluted blood, was slowly draining out. Aaron pulled his sock off and tied it gently around the wound, knotting the thick fabric in his armpit.

The makeshift bandage was less than adequate, but it would serve until Aaron could reach some sort of town and find out just what the hell was going on. He thought hard as the stream bubbled past and he muttered under his breath. Aaron could remember bits and pieces, fragments as it were, of different scenes and people, but nothing specific enough to warrant a much needed flashback. He still had no idea where to go or what to do, but basic survival instinct had kicked in and Aaron knew for a fact that he had to put as much distance between him and those... creatures… as he possibly could.

Soon Aaron was bushwhacking his way through the thick foliage and sweat began to soak into his clothes. He removed the thick jacket and tied it around his waist before pushing through yet another myriad of ferns and creepers which threatened to suck him down into the underbrush. Aaron kicked out at the thick plant life and pushed deeper into the Everfree Forest.

Without warning, the sun began its dip behind the canopy and the already dark forest became pitch black. Aaron felt the fear being rekindled inside of him and he wiped the sweat from his face, stopping to pause a moment. The sounds of crickets, slithering animals, and the rustling of plants mixed with Aaron's labored breathing and he leaned wearily against a tree, pulling his jacket over himself once again.

The crack of a twig behind the exhausted man caused him to turn and receive a blow to the temple. Aaron crumpled backwards and laid still, rendered unconscious from the surprise attack. A stallion stepped from the shadows and peered down at Aaron's limp form. The crickets had started up their songs again and the stallion entered a small sliver of moonlight. He seemed rather ragtag and beat down, but there was a spark in his eyes and a blackjack hung from a clasp around his ankle, presumably to strike opponents like Aaron.

There was a sharp rustling as the unconscious body was swung onto the stallion's back and soon the only sign that trouble had occurred was the crushed grass and a small droplet of blood, gleaming in the moonlight.

* * *

><p>The shouting of gruff voices, stomping hooves, and whipping fabric awoke Aaron from his unconscious state. A loud groan escaped his throat and his head throbbed in response. Aaron attempted to open his eyes, but a thick blindfold prohibited him from doing such a thing and as Aaron tried to reach, he found his hands to be roughly tied and bound with rope.<p>

Aaron struggled for a moment, kicking out against the darkness around him. It was no use and the captured man slumped down, apparently tied to a post of sorts. He could hear whispering voices and chuckles, but Aaron still lacked the ability to see who was laughing at him. Had he been captured and brought back to the hell from where he had escaped? Aaron's mind tumbled all the possibilities over and over again, as if attempting to find the most likely one.

Something prodded Aaron in the chest and he looked about aimlessly "Who's there? What do you want?"

Despite the throbbing within the confines of his skull, Aaron could make out two voices, although they were addressing each other and not him.

"Would you look at that...they really are real. Who woulda thought?"

"Yeah, Lone brought him in."

"Damn. I heard the Princess is here to see this...thing."

"I don't doubt that. Anyway, you better get ready for the raid. You remember the briefing, right?"

"Mhmm. I'll see you in a bit. You bringing it over?"

"Yeah. See ya."

Hooves could be heard clicking as the speakers parted ways. Aaron shook his head in disbelief. Taking horses? What next? More clip-clopping made itself known, this one deeper and louder. A tickling feeling ran over his face gently, caressing him for just a moment before the rags were removed from his head. At that very instant, his eyes met one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his entire (but admittedly short) life. It was a horse.

For the longest time, he just stared at it in awe, his mouth agape. The tall stature, the exquisitely flowing, multi-colored mane, the sheer serenity and regality that dripped from its very presence was more than enough to keep him not only in shock, but in complete wonderment as to how such a beautiful thing was even capable of existing. Aaron's eyes locked onto its and he could feel a firm, but gentle, air of authority around the figure before him. It captivated him easily, rendering him a slack-jawed human lying against a post in front of one of the most powerful beings on Earth.

"So," it spoke in a melodic tone, entrancing him, "are you one of the 'humans' who have been causing trouble within my kingdom? As well as stealing the lives of some of my subjects?"

Aaron immediately snapped out of his trance once she mentioned that last part, "S-Steal?"

"Yes," the horse replied, getting closer to his face but remaining stoic, "stealing life away from the guards of Ponyville Jail, to be precise. It wouldn't happen to be you that did so, would it?"

"I-I…" his face contorted in worry, "I… didn't do anything! Honest!"

He watched as the large horse scanned his features, as if trying to bleed every bit of honesty from his very being. It seemed to last for hours on end, but he knew it was only a few seconds. Still, it didn't make it any more comfortable for him to endure. It hummed in satisfaction and returned to its normal posture.

"You seem to be telling the truth, but I can't be for certain your intentions are in the best interest for my little ponies."

Confused, he asked the only question he could utter at the moment, "P-Ponies..?"

It clicked its tongue and gave its head a light shake, "I'm sorry, you're probably confused as to what's happened. You see, to put it bluntly, your world no longer exists. That world, the human one, has faded from existence thousands upon thousands of years ago. I originally thought humans were merely mythical creatures, but it seems I was wrong."

"Myths?" Aaron squeaked out.

The alabaster horse nodded, "As I said, I was wrong in assuming that. But you're living proof that another civilization existed far before any other race here on Earth, and you'd be an excellent source of information for the world."

"I-I can't believe this…" he managed out, completely overtaken by what he had heard.

Not once in his life had he felt such an enormous amount of dread and sadness overcome him. Everything he knew, gone like that. His body ached too much for this to be some sort of crazy dream or hallucination. Memories began to pour back, of everything he'd seen in his past life, before he was forcefully incarcerated in that research facility. And just like that, he caught himself crying already.

Aaron forced back his tears, nearly choking in the process. The young man shook his head and tried his best to remain calm, especially due to the fact he was in a new environment. After all, it didn't make a very good first impression to be sobbing all over. Slowly, he felt himself slump lower and closer to the floor. The head upon his shoulders hung in solemn quietness for a few moments.

Suddenly, he felt something rub against his face, something incredibly soft and silky. Aaron opened his eyes to find that the horse was nuzzling against him, most likely in an effort to comfort the disorientated and confused man. His short-lived grieving was replaced by astonishment as he took in the feeling of the equine rubbing against him. The warm heat, the pleasant fragrance, and even the overall feeling of sympathy calmed and relaxed him immediately.

It pulled away and looked him in the eye, "Better?" He nodded, not able to speak just yet, "Good. Now, I'd like to untie you, can I trust that you won't make any rash mistakes?"

Aaron nearly flinched at the "mistakes" part, picking up the hint that if he tried anything, he'd be on the receiving end of a lot of hurt, "Y-Yes, you can."

It spoke as it untied him, "Please, what name do you go by?"

"Aaron," he said, clearing his throat.

"An odd name," it mused, "But different cultures, I suppose. I am Princess Celestia, co-ruler of the Kingdom of Equestria, along with my sister, Princess Luna. We raise the sun and moon, respectively."

Once again, his mouth fell open in amazement, "_Princess_? As in royalty?"

She nodded, "Yes, as in both me and my sister rule a country of our own kind. I assume you aren't familiar with them, so it would be wise to tell you now. Do you know what I am?"

"A horse?" Aaron asked simply.

The Princess seemed to go deadpan momentarily, "… No, not a horse, per se. You see, I'm what you'd call a 'pony,' as you would my sister or any of our subjects."

"Pony? I-I… Wha? This…" he began, "is totally confusing me."

He was met with a benevolent smile, "Don't worry, Aaron the human, it'll all make sense in time."

"I hope so," he replied, "Nothing seems to be making sense."

Just then, his stomach growled fiercely in hunger. Running through a forest at top-speed, dodging bullets and patrols, and being frozen in time for a few millennia would make anyone hungry, given the proper situation. He blushed slightly in embarrassment and shuffled his feet uneasily while Princess Celestia simply smiled knowingly.

"Would you," she began, "happen to be hungry, by any chance?" He nodded, "Come, let's get you something to eat then."

And so they began to walk, giving him a chance to actually notice his surroundings. He was inside a tent and led out into the bright summer sun within a clearing. The same forest he was running through seemed to make a camp for countless other, white horses that trotted by, eyeing him warily despite being alongside the Princess. Then again, he assumed that _was_ the reason they were eyeing him.

The Princess suddenly stopped, "Oh! Hmm…" She placed a hoof to her chin in thought, "Ah, maybe we should visit Ponyville for some sweets?"

Aaron's face fell, "But you said that your guards were-"

Celestia waved a hoof dismissively, "Nonsense, I believe I can trust you enough to bring you there. Besides, no harm will come to you so long as you're with me and willing to restrain any feelings of destruction or crime."

"Crime? Why would I commit any crimes?"

"_Have you_ committed any crimes in your lifetime or plan on doing so at any point?"

He shifted his feet and twisted his fingers around, "Well… no, but…"

"Splendid, then! We'll depart immediately and have you filled in no time."

Aaron couldn't help but smile humbly, "Thank you."

She smiled and nuzzled him, catching the human and any of her subjects watching off guard, "You seem to be pleasant enough, and nothing like what I've heard from reports of those other humans who terrorize without regard to anypony else. But," she reinforced sternly, "if I hear of you attacking anypony at all, without it being in self-defense, there will be _severe_ consequences."

"O-Of course, I wouldn't dare to even think of doing anything to hurt your subjects, even if they attacked me first."

"Oh no, I didn't mean to come off like that!" Celestia placed a hoof on his shoulder, "I simply mean, if you're in danger, act accordingly, please? If not, maintain your behavior to be as civil as possible. The ponies may not be entirely trusting of you, you see, and the recent attack seems to have left them severely…" she thought for a moment, "'spooked', as one would say."

"Either way, Your Highness, I'd rather not take a chance and possibly hurt anybody." He frowned, "It would probably just hurt my chances more of getting everything together."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, just keep both your mind and heart open for anything. Who knows," she smiled genuinely, "you may just find yourself at home here in this world. I know for a fact that we'd appreciate your presence and help wherever needed."

Aaron smiled back, "I'll help in any way I can, Your Highness. It's the least I can do after you freeing and trusting me like this."

"Nonsense, you owe me nothing. A sentient being doesn't deserve to be tied up like a wild animal, especially one as mythical and rare as you. Now, shall we depart?"

"Of course, Princess."

And they were gone in a flash, with Celestia already having used a teleportation spell as he finished. The guards shifted around for a moment, wondering how things would ultimately work out. Hopefully, it would be in favor of their nation. Going up against legendary creatures with who knows what at their disposal made the entire situation confusing and slightly grim, but they soon got back to work, preparing for a raid. Now was the first step in what would become an extremely controversial conflict between competing interests. All in all, it seems Earth hadn't truly changed all that much.

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic<strong>

Blat-blat. This new cracker is now officially part of the story. After furiously debating Lucius on this, I've decided to not give a fuck and post a sneak peek to a future chapter. Enjoy.

[11:24:50 PM] Lucius: AWWW YEAH, NIGGA. So does Westin wake up in a interrogation cell or something?  
>[11:26:14 PM] Lucius: We both know that nigga is gonna have shit to say.<br>[11:28:31 PM] Stillmatic: He is  
>[11:28:51 PM] Stillmatic: Going to recite rap lyrics<br>[11:28:59 PM] Stillmatic: Specifically  
>[11:29:04 PM] Stillmatic: The one I put in the email<br>[11:29:22 PM] Lucius: BOUNCE TO THIS MOTHERFUCKER  
>[11:29:26 PM] Stillmatic: Yeah<br>[11:29:33 PM] Stillmatic: WE DONT GIVE A WHAT WHAT  
>[11:29:38 PM] Stillmatic: GET IT ON THE FLOOR<br>[11:29:44 PM] Stillmatic: *smacks Celestia's ass*  
>[11:29:53 PM] Stillmatic: *Guards pounce him*<br>[11:29:58 PM] Stillmatic: *Flips table as they jump  
>[11:30:05 PM] Stillmatic: *Starts rapping and dancing*<br>[11:30:15 PM] Stillmatic: *Celestia bows down in defeat at his ghettoness*  
>[11:30:22 PM] Stillmatic: *New ruler of Equestria*<br>[11:30:29 PM] Stillmatic: *Gangster*

You are now MYSTIFIED!

As always,

Stay Trilla.

* * *

><p><strong>Lucius Seneca<strong>

FREAK TO THIS MOTHAFUCKA!

* * *

><p><strong>Stillmatic V.2<strong>

LET'S GET IT ON!


	11. Chapter 11

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By: Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Ten: Convergence **

The facility thrummed with unseen energy, sending a strange type of pulsation through the rusting girders, collapsed dry wall, and caved in ceilings. It was entirely obvious that this section, this lower floor, had suffered greatly from time's harshness, slowly chipped away bit by bit, inch by inch. Flakes of rust and clumped together debris trickled from the holes in the ceiling and landed softly on the surfaces below, coating the floors and desks in a semi-fine dust which jumped with excitement as the pulsations continued. Power surges, some large and others small, had been regularly sweeping through the lowermost floors of the facility and occasional the ones above, courtesy of the insane A.I. and a weakened reactor.

This section of the facility was home to several labs, all varying in purposes and equipment. Some focused on weapons manufacturing, others aimed their purpose towards the nurturing of flora. It was a diverse mix to be sure and although the plants which had died so long ago hung limply from their planters, the machines designed to ensure their safety continued to work, spraying each dead husk with water, nutrients, and other chemicals meant to ironically prolong the life of nature. If one were to journey farther down the hallways, they would have seen a smaller lab, equipped with lockers and other mundane storage units.

Although, as a rat scurried forth, intending to enter the open room, it was promptly split into several razor thin slices. Unbeknownst to the rodent, the doorway harbored a lethal security measure. Unseen lasers, no wider than the width of a hair, decorated the entryway with a vast yet invisible web of energy meant to ensure death to any intruder who entered. As for the contents of the room, nothing seemed worthy of notice. No pedestal suggested some piece of incredible technology. In fact, the room seemed to be the blandest of the others. Stained tile floors, molding ceiling tiles, and dilapidated lockers were all contained within the room no bigger than a small classroom.

The lights flickered on with a tired sigh and the lasers, still unseen by the naked eye, deactivated and hummed with relief. A small orb, centered on the ceiling, looked downwards at the still form of a man dressed in combat gear. He seemed locked within the cone of wavy red light. His gloved hands connected to a body clad in black clothing, topped off with balaclava. There was a series of clicks and the red light vanished, allowing the man to tumble to the floor in a heap. Silence followed the sudden collapse, but was quickly broken by a harsh intake of breath and the brief twitching of the weakened prisoner.

His eyes fluttered open, further revealing black irises upon slightly tanned skin. He struggled to his feet, shaky hands grasping at the nearby table. A voice came over the speakers, demanding in its accent.

"Well, what do we have here? A *bzzt* FILTHY COMMUNIST *bzzt* or..." There was a pause as the intercom fell silent "Or a helping hand?"

The man looked about in confusion and backed towards the door, unsure of what to do. His stomach howled for food and his legs quivered with weakness. Fragments of pictures, broken sentences, and unheard whispers attack his mind, forcing the man into a confused state and threatened to rob him of precise reflexes and professional training. He turned and ran from the room.

[SCENE BREAK]

The cameras, coated in thick grime and sludge, turned slowly and watched as the man ran down the hallways, athletic body stretching and moving as he dodged past fallen rubble and the occasional collapsed catwalk underfoot. His mind seemed sluggish, but not lethargic enough to restrict him from his own name, although his last escaped him.

His identity slipped past his chapped lips "Ezekiel..."

The words came out with a thick accent, most likely European as it sounded Russian to the common ear. Lights flickered overhead, bulbs occasionally bursting after such a prompt call to duty, sending bits of glass and filament down upon Ezekiel. He shook off the stray debris and hooked a left, spinning into a large room. He slammed the metal door behind him, shoving the lock into place before sliding down into a panting heap.

His stomach growled fiercely and a dryness fit to match the Mojave laced his mouth and throat. Quietly muttering curses under his breath, Ezekiel climbed to his feet once more, hands feeling around for a light switch or flashlight. The former was quickly located and fluorescent bulbs, tubed in shape, lit up dimly, tired after their long sleep. A wooden desk backed up onto a collapsed wall and a lab bench stood nearby, filthy beakers and yellowed papers atop the surface.

Ezekiel stumbled forward, searching several nearby lockers in desperation. Several large bottles of water gleamed in the yellow light and the man greedily downed one, tossing the empty plastic bottle over his shoulder as he started on his second. Why was he so thirsty? Surely his mission could not have taken such a long time.

His mission. Flashes of pictures, documents, and a man's ascetic face appeared in rapid succession in Ezekiel's mind's eye. He gripped at his temple, ripping the mask from his face in the process, and revealing features similar to many Europeans. Dark eyes, lightly tanned skin, clean shaven and black hair cut short.

Indeed, Ezekiel would have looked normal if not for the equipment which covered him. He looked over the strange attire. It seemed fit for sneaking around, open combat, and even spying. The thought of the last word brought another flurry of images to mind. Guards, a choking sound, several silenced gunshots, panting, and suddenly everything vanished like a cold wind had wiped it from existence.

Ezekiel, now finished with the water, felt the need to urinate. Doing so proved easy, as the entire facility seemed abandoned and in ruin. Perhaps the intelligence Ezekiel had gone on was incorrect. Nothing was as it seemed. In fact, everything seemed wrong. Before the confused human had time to think on his situation further, there was a flash of light beyond the collapsed drywall and a flurry of sparks from a control panel, suggesting another surge of electricity.

Climbing through the large hole in the wall was easy enough, but Ezekiel moved carefully, stepping past debris and loose wiring which spat angry sparks at him. He soon found himself looking over a large area, one which caused his eyes to widen briefly, hidden slightly by the balaclava he had pulled back on.

A large laboratory greeted the lone man and he let his black irises travel over the stained tile floor, occasionally populated by a warped ceiling tile or a broken beaker. But what was most interesting, was the trio of strange glass tubes which ran from the ceiling to the floor. They appeared to be centered in the middle of the room, surrounded by long benches and shelving units which covered the walls.

Green liquid bubbled within the tubes and faint silhouettes could be seen past the murky substance. Ezekiel approached slowly, hands running atop benches and desks as he made his way closer to the odd apparatus. The figures seemed distorted, twisted in ways which made them difficult to compare to human anatomy. Something was most definitely wrong.

A voice came over the hidden intercoms "I see you've found the Genetics Laboratory! Quite the sight isn't it?"

Ezekiel recognized the American accent and the tone of the unseen speaker. It was the same one from earlier, spurring a sudden recollection of who the nagging voice emanated from. It had been a long time since Ezekiel had heard, or even cared about President Nixon. He had little love for such a country, but he knew enough about it to identify the famous voice.

Nixon continued with his speech, apparently much more calm than before "You know, I had hundreds of scientists all in this room back before everything went to hell. They were the geniuses of their generation, completely ready to move into branches of science unheard of." There was a brief stop and the intercom buzzed before coming back to life "Unfortunately, these poor souls have remained trapped in isolation for many years now, unrevealed to a world which could hardly have cared about such scientific miracles."

Ezekiel listened intently, no longer worried about capture or attack. If no one had come already, they never would, but that didn't stop him from searching for a weapon. His eyes eventually came upon a set of small test tubes, no larger than a miniature bottle of vodka or something of the like. A roll of electrical tape lay nearby and Ezekiel put the two objects together in his mind.

He approached the table, hands moving as Nixon rambled on "Oh, what a waste. These specimens may very well be the next step in evolution, but they are quiet as of now, voice unheard in the rabble above."

This was not the Nixon Ezekiel had read about in the history books. He seemed polite, but somehow sad, and it was unnerving to say the least. There was a loud crack as the test tubes were broken against the side of the table. The handiwork was somewhat impressive and Ezekiel looked over the makeshift weapon.

The test tubes, each stuck between the fingers on his right hand, had been taped onto the hand itself and, now broken, served as a deadly set of knuckledusters. Happy with the defensive weapon, Ezekiel returned his attention to the large, cryogenic-like containers as the voice above droned on.

"Well, you aren't here for fun. I do believe it is time to test you."

There was aloud hiss as a container slid open. steam gushing from under the slowly reclining glass door. Within seconds, the green water was pouring over the floor, stinking and putrid. Ezekiel stepped backwards, uneasiness now gripping him. A leathery being came into sight, sagging down from several wires and tubes which linked to the top of the tube container.

The very sight of such a thing made Ezekiel want to run, but he stayed put, eyes fixed on a nightmare. Long, gangly arms and legs, all colored purplish black connected to a twisted torso where the skin was thin enough to allow the creature's ribcage to be seen, all of it encased by a layer of cancerous lesions and sores.

It twitched briefly, bloodshot eyes opening with a high pitched shriek loud enough to burst an eardrum in the right conditions. It screamed again and Ezekiel winced, backing away from the horror in fear. It scrambled to its mutated feet, ripping at the wires and tubing which held it back. It's fingers, elongated and bent with sharpened nails, cut through the materials easily enough and soon it was hunched over in front of Ezekiel, it's breathing raspy yet bubbly with blood and unseen fluids.

Ezekiel continued his silent retreat, but, unbeknownst to him, the broken glass from his knuckledusters, lay only millimeters away. His heel, encased in a heavy boot, slowly descended on the glass, and cracks rang through the laboratory. Ezekiel froze, eyes now wide with fear, and watched as the creature slowly stood up, head rising to face the opposing man.

Teeth, gnarled yet white, extended from lips which seemed relatable to swiss cheese. Several tumors covered the thing's head and another few protruded from it's shoulders. It threw it's head back with a scream fit to cause a heart attack and sprinted at Ezekiel, eyes filled with bloodlust.

Ezekiel sound found himself flying through the air, courtesy of his new opponent, and he landed with a loud thud on the floor. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed a chair, and swung as the beast closed in. It yelled in anger as the metal chair connected with it's face. Ezekiel pulled back for another swing, but a kick to his torso stopped such a thing from happening and he slid backwards on the floor.

Within seconds, the creature was on him him again, but this time he was ready, and Ezekiel threw himself at his enemy, sending his armed fist into it's throat over and over again. Blood, black and oily, spewed outwards and pieces of glass became lodged in the creature's neck. It howled in pain and tried to toss the attacking human away, but Ezekiel was already ahead of it, ducking under flailing arms, and grabbing the chair once more.

The beast's spine made an audible crack as the weapon connected with it several times, killing it nearly instantly. It moaned briefly and collapsed, blood pooling from a lacerated throat. Ezekiel fell backwards in exhaustion, letting the bloodied chair fall from his hands in the process. He fought the urge to rip the mask from his face, but he knew he was being watched and couldn't risk his identity being revealed, although he thought back to the small office in which he had taken the balaclava off, but shrugged it off. He hadn't seen any cameras anyway.

The fight had been taxing and far more frightening than a firefight, but Ezekiel had seen far worse. Using a nearby table to help him to his feet, Ezekiel regained his footing for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past thirty minutes. Nothing was fitting together in his mind. His memory was tattered at best, but parts still remained intact, albeit not enough to piece together the mysterious puzzle around him.

Overhead, an artificial clapping resonated through the room "Well done, my communist friend! A fine example of training indeed! There aren't many that can survive such an attack, and although it saddens me to see the death of another one of my children, you have my respect and for that, I shall offer you a deal."

Ezekiel looked around, accent coloring his words "Deal?"

"A deal! And here it is: A floor below you is an experimental manufacturing room. I won't bore you with the details, but there is a piece of machinery down there that I want you to acquire and use. You'll know it when you see it, and once you have it, proceed to the surface and if you survive what you encounter there, you're free to go, although you may find yourself without help for quite sometime."

There was a moment of silence before Ezekiel repeated himself, "Deal."

Nixon laughed happily, further changing Ezekiel's look on the unseen man, "Excellent! Now, off with you, and remember: no funny business!"

Leaving the lab behind was comfort enough, and Ezekiel let out a sigh of relief as he exited, glancing over his shoulder at the two specimens which remained behind glass. God only knew how much tougher they might have been to kill. Putting such thoughts behind him, Ezekiel continued down the immediate hallway, squinting against the darkness.

The electrical system must have been on a separate circuit or something similar as the lights in the hallway were off, allowing inky blackness to seep in. The grate floors creaked as Ezekiel made his way forward. He glanced down, spying pipes and thick collections of wiring running underneath the thin metal surface.

Not truly knowing where to go, Ezekiel tried a door to his right and pulled on the rusted handle, grunting with the work. When the door failed to open, the frustrated man stomped his foot on the grates below and promptly fell through and onto the piping several feet below. The sudden drop scared him, but minor scratches were the only injuries he received.

Cursing once again, Ezekiel went to stand up, but the large pipe he was situated upon let out a loud groan and dipped forward, creating a slight incline which caused Ezekiel to slip and land hard on the rusted steel. There was another rusted shriek and the pipe toppled forward, ripping from its cleats, and falling through the air below, bringing Ezekiel with it.

He yelled out in surprise as he fell, but a girder appeared below him and he slammed into it, gripping weakly with his hands as he did so. Wind knocked out of him and curses slewing from his mouth, Ezekiel looked down at the drop. It was enough to break his legs without question and as he attempted to tighten his grip, the rusted ceiling girder snapped from the ceiling above, swung to the side, and slammed into a wall, and toppled to the ground.

A large plume of dust rose up and Ezekiel crawled away from the huge girder mere seconds before it tipped sideways and crushed the spot he had been laying in only seconds ago. On his feet once again, the now dusty and scowling man examined his immediate surroundings. He was in a firing range and as he glanced upwards, he realized why the drop had been so high. Several air ducts, equipped with fans meant to filter out gun smoke were built into the ceiling.

Shrugging off the near death experience, Ezekiel focused on the task at hand. If he had any chance of figuring out what the hell was going on, he'd need to get out of the dark pit he was currently in. Soon he had exited the firing range, finding only the rusted carcasses of weapons and nothing usable. The darkness seemed to be even thicker down here and Ezekiel wondered how many floors there were. It was a diverse facility to be sure. Labs, firing ranges, hallways which seemed to stretch on forever, and it made Ezekiel nervous to say the least.

Finding the lab was easy enough as the doors to it were huge, spanning nearly a wall, and were directly across from the firing range. They were obviously thick steel and interlocked in the middle, huge teeth sliding together to keep unwanted visitors out. Ezekiel glanced around and located a keypad, but a cracked screen and frayed wires suggested that it would be no use. There was another burst of electricity and the floor shook.

Reminded of his past experiences with such floors, Ezekiel flattened himself against the doors and jerked his head back in fright when they slid apart, large gears grinding as they pulled the heavy steel away from each other. The movement stopped abruptly, but there was enough room for Ezekiel to slip through.

He ducked his head and entered the space, his nostrils flaring from the musty air. It had been a long time since anyone had been in the room and Ezekiel glanced about. It was empty apart from several weapons lockers and a large, tarp-covered object in the far back. Obviously the space had been cleaned out quickly at some point, and Ezekiel opened one the lockers, finding several automatic rifles within. He pulled one out with a slight smile and looked it over expertly.

It was a DSA SA58 OSW carbine, and it was quite the weapon, both oddly stylish yet still capable of doing its job without problem. A skeleton stock lay folded and was flush with the side of the gun and a M68 Aimpoint red dot scope stood on the mounting rail, allowing for better accuracy and shot placement. Ezekiel grabbed several magazines and loaded the weapon, surprised at the length of them.

He slung the carbine over his shoulder and approached the tarp and the machine underneath. The tarp fell of easily enough, bringing a small cloud of dust with it. Waving away the irritating particles, Ezekiel looked on in wonderment at the piece of equipment.

It was a mechanical suit of sorts, grayish black in color. It appeared to cover the user's full body and was undoubtedly thick, lined with some type of metal most likely titanium or some other element. A harness design covered the torso of the suit and the shoulder pauldrons stuck out overtop of the wearer's actual shoulders. A helmet, resembling that of a futuristic design, covered the head of the user, and hiding his or her face behind a black visor.

It was a piece of amazing technology to be sure, but Ezekiel approached hesitantly, hand slowly depressing a large button on the center of the suit's chest. It jumped to life instantly, torso splitting opening vertically. It folded open quickly and Ezekiel, now rather excited, entered the machine, finding that it shut behind him.

Finding it to be fairly comfortable, he looked out the visor and pulled his head back in surprise as several readings came over the screen. It seemed to be scanning the room, diagrams flashing up in front of Ezekiel's eyes. Despite his lack of english skills, he knew the majority of what was being placed before him and he began to experiment a little.

He raised his arm and the suit moved with it, following the human within without a problem. It was truly a marvel of human engineering. Ezekiel shifted slightly within, feeling the padded interior and the carbine which was pressed tightly to his side. As far as he knew, there were no exterior weapons attached to the machine, but it seemed capable of destruction without them. A voice, artificial and thought out, played through a built in set of headphones.

"Welcome, user! You are currently in use of an industrial exosuit! Please remember to exercise caution while operating this machine! Improper use will result in death or serious injury."

There was a beep and Nixon's voice jumped over the previous one "Well done, my friend! You have but one part left to accomplish. Proceed to the top floor and kill everyone up there, would you? They have been a thorn in my side since they first set up camp!" There was a hearty if somewhat sadistic laugh "Behind you, there is a cargo lift. Take it."

Ezekiel turned carefully, finding the suit responding to his every command perfectly. He took his first few steps carefully and watched as two large metal doors, not unlike the ones Ezekiel had just entered through, slide open jerkily and reveal the lighted interior of a large cargo lift. Crates and boxes lay stacked against one side and two skeletons sat lazily against them, skulls wobbling as Ezekiel entered.

He noticed the two bodies and, now realizing that the facility was not at all like what he had expected, cursed the men who had sent him here, despite the fact that he couldn't remember any of their names. The doors shut quietly and the whir of the elevator traveling upwards made a small sweat break out upon Ezekiel's forehead. Despite his training, fights still made him anxious and he set about to find something to distract him from such a thought, knowing that it would take a few minutes to travel from his current level to the top.

His visored eyes spotted the crates to his left and he easily ripped the thick wooden lid off, revealing black combat gear and several stacked carbines, the exact same one which was currently digging into his ribcage annoyingly. He pulled out some of the armor, looking over it curiously. It was obviously meant for intense combat as a thick kevlar breastplate covered the abdomen area along with elbow pads, shinguards, and several other protective pieces of material.

It was certainly professional material, but Ezekiel was ripped from his examination as a beep resounded within the elevator, signifying his arrival. He let out a long breath and watched as the doors opened, revealing two large, upright dogs conversing casually. They looked over in awe and began to chatter excitedly, not knowing that the exosuit was inhabited.

"Damn! Those power surges might not be bad after all! Look at that!"

It's partner, a strange mix of golden retriever and bulldog, nodded in agreement "Imagine if we show Ulysses this! Promotions for sure!"

It was at that moment that Ezekiel stepped forward, eliciting two surprised yells from the dogs. He shook his head in amazement. Surely he must be hallucinating. Talking dogs? It seemed impossible, but such thoughts were cut short as one dog ran to the opposite wall, grabbed an M16 assault rifle, and opened fire.

Despite the fact that the bullets were striking the suit, they merely pinged off the heavy duty material and flew away with high pitched whistles. Ezekiel, now emboldened by near invincibility and adrenaline, charged forward and sent the attacker flying through the office behind him. A simple backhand made sure that the second dog was also dispatched and the body bounced off a wall before collapsing in a bloody heap.

Ezekiel began to ran, plan beginning to formulate in his mind, and swept aside two large birds as he turned a corner. Unsurprisingly, alarms began to ring through the area, but Ezekiel paid the screaming sound no mind, and, following an image of his current location on the suit's visor, began to move towards the exit, yells and bullets following him.

[SCENE BREAK]

"As we uncover more of the facility, we are progressively discovering things which may interest you."

Jacque pointed at a collection of guns "Take these for example. If the records we recovered are to be believed, this are all confiscated weapons. Not used by the security, of course."

Ulysses nodded and ran a hand through his recently washed hair. He looked far healthier than he had only hours ago, although his skin was still quite pale. His old clothing had been reduced to irreparable states and they had quickly found themselves in the trash, but Ulysses' new attire seemed far more fitting. In fact, the outfit looked similar to what the recent escapee had been wearing, apart from the fact that Ulysses' wore a security officer's uniform, holster and all.

The clothes fit him nicely and he tapped his combat boot-clad foot as he examined the collection of AK-47's, MAC 10's, and plenty of other contraband weapons which had been discovered in a recently uncovered armory which, by all accounts, was dedicated to the storage of recovered and surplus weapons; perfect for the lower ranks of the dogs and griffons. Ulysses nodded slowly, regaining Jacque's attention once more.

"Very good, my friend. Although, I was somewhat disappointed that your followers were not able to locate our recent fugitive."

Ulysses' tone had taken on a complimentary yet strict tone and Jacque was quick to reply "My apologies, Ulysses. My only excuse is that the dispatched dogs were not professional trackers, but rather runts. I have only the best searching the forest as we speak."

"Well, you have my trust and faith in the matter, Jacque. I wonder if the griffons are doing their part as well. After all, they are a necessary part of this operation."

Another voice appeared from behind Ulysses and Jacque "We are and we understand the importance." Ulysses and his canine friend turned to face the griffon as he finished his statement "The cretin will be found before daybreak tomorrow, I assure you."

Jericho Williams was the griffon in charge of all field operations exclusive to his race. Whether they be potential or set in stone, Jericho made sure all went according to plan. and despite the fact that he had not personally met Ulysses, the two knew of each other quite well.

Holding out his hand, Ulysses spoke "A pleasure. I have full confidence in your soldiers."

There was a firm shake as Jericho seized Ulysses' outstretched hand "Thank you for the confidence. My soldiers speak of you with great reverence and I have come to think of you as a fine tactician and...combatant."

Jacque bowed deeply and took his leave, having already been acquainted with Jericho. Ulysses smiled politely, but a before the human could reply, alarms began to blare loudly and Ulysses glanced outside the small storage closet. A distant thumping could be heard and it grew progressively louder, causing Ulysses to pull his pistol out instinctively. He was certainly surprised when the lobby doors exploded outwards, striking a nearby griffon and sending him flying backwards and over a crate.

Ezekiel ran past Ulysses and Jericho, lumbering in the huge exosuit, and disappeared into the sunlight. Ulysses raised an eyebrow and looked over at the muscular griffon who appeared confused, simply shrugging his shoulders. A swarm of dogs and griffons followed the rampaging Ezekiel, looking more like a lynch mob than an organized squad of fighters. Sighing slightly, Ulysses ducked back inside the storage closet, and grabbed a weapon from the overpacked crates.

His hands grasped an AN-94 assault rifle. It was heavy and Ulysses was pleasantly surprised at the make of the Russian weapon. It's black metal furniture added to the weight and as Ulysses turned it over, inserting a magazine into it, he smiled sadistically at the GP-30 40mm grenade launcher which clutched tightly to the underside of the barrel. Jericho grabbed the same weapon and loaded it calmly, his military training coming into play. As to where the weapon had been found before falling into the hands of Ulysses and his companion, it was anyones guess.

Jericho and Ulysses looked at each other, checked their weapons one more time, and entered the sunlight.

[SCENE BREAK]

As Ezekiel ran through the bushes and trees, his mind thought back to Nixon's deal. He was meant to kill EVERYTHING, but obviously he had avoided doing so, more concerned with his own wellbeing and escape than a complete massacre. And now, as he tore through the landscape around him he noticed the presence of something even more strange.

Off to his right, a good thirty or so small horses were watching him, clad in golden armor, spears and swords at the ready. Ezekiel stopped and looked over the fear stricken group. They looked back with eyes wide with horror and amazement. The large exosuit turned fully and looked over the collection of soldiers which would have seemed more at home in a fantasy story.

Ezekiel feigned an attack and the ponies tucked tail, running in the opposite direction, and straight towards where Ezekiel had just come from. He watched them go with a strange sense of humor growing within him. Shaking his head in disbelief, he continued in his loud jogging, sending macaws and other tropical birds into the air as the suit destroyed ferns, shrubbery, and dead trees as it rushed past.

A full minute passed, filled with loud thumps and long strides, before Ezekiel stopped and promptly exited the suit, deciding to go on without it. He would need to stay under the radar now, not destroy the radar itself. Besides, he looked around, this was unfamiliar territory and if he was to slip away, he'd have to be careful.

Stomach growling for nutrients, Ezekiel removed his balaclava, tucked it away, and unslung his carbine. He took a deep breath and began to run, heading towards a town which knew humans well enough already.

[SCENE BREAK]

Ulysses watched as the mob slowed and cursed as an entire entity, not willing to get separated in the thick mass of vines and mangrove trees. They retreated back towards Ulysses who seemed to be peering over their shoulders, seeing flashes of golden light just beyond the treeline.

Jericho muttered to the man next to him "What the hell is that? More surprises?"

Ulysses shrugged "Let's wait and see."

Soon the two companions were surrounded by the large group of fighters and, noticing the squinting eyes of their leaders, turned to look at the distant trees. Mumbling and grunts came from the collected audience, but soon curses filled the air as a sentry called out from a watchtower.

"Commandant Ulysses! Movement on the perimeter!"

What had caused the disturbance was easily seen. More than thirty equestrians, all dressed in golden armor and helmets, ran from the trees and towards the compound. It was a varied group to be sure, but Ulysses ignored the feathered wings and horns of his new opponents.

Ulysses began walking, with Jericho falling into step beside him. The pale man took notice and spoke quietly "I want prisoners, Jericho."

Jericho nodded, a smile gracing his beak "And the others?"

Rifle raised, Ulysses replied "Kill them."

The roar of gunfire ripped into the air, sending birds skyward along with small puffs of acidic smoke. Bullets, flying forward, ripped into the bodies of the equestrians and several toppled instantly, with a few kicking feebly in the process. It was entirely obvious that they had been unprepared for such technology and soon realized that their spears and crossbows would do nothing to help them.

Of the thirty or so that had emerged proudly from the forest, only fifteen still stood, eyes wide with fear as Ulysses, joined by Jericho and the full force of the avians and canines, opened fire relentlessly. Jericho smiled tightly as the rifle kicked against his muscled shoulder and his target, a young stallion of black, collapsed as several bullets peppered his chest, slicing through the armor.

Ulysses lowered his weapon slightly and angled it appropriately before pulling the trigger on his grenade launcher. There was a loud pop, followed by a low whistle as the explosive sailed forward, landing mere feet from three stallions who were attempting to flee. Unsurprisingly, there was a fairly large explosion mixed with cheering, screams, and more gunshots.

Jericho and with Ulysses lowered their weapons and watched as the smoke cleared, revealing the absence of two of the stallions which had stood in that very spot only seconds ago, although the several body parts which littered the grass were an easy indication of their fates. One lay nearby, presumably faring better than his comrades. The last of the soldiers had thrown down their arms, placing their hooves over their heads and tossing their helmets down in surrender.

After a quick head count, Ulysses ascertained that only eight had survived and he watched as several Diamond Dogs surrounded the new prisoners and forced them onto the ground. There were several loud screams as the unicorns of the group had their horns stomped on, breaking the piece of magical bone and effectively destroying any chance of retaliation.

Jericho began to yell orders, leaving Ulysses to watch the body of a unicorn several feet away. Charred flesh and exposed bone indicated that the equestrian was dead, but as Ulysses turned to go, the body twitched slightly. A raised eyebrow revealed Ulysses' interest and he crossed the bloodstained grass, dodging the griffons which were dragging bodies off with help from the dogs.

The unicorn began to kick feebly, shifting on the grassy terrain. The armor, perforated and blackened though it was, had absorbed the explosion just enough to allow the unicorn to survive. Ulysses knelt down silently, letting his rifle lay across his thighs. The equestrian looked up fearfully at the human who stared back with eyes as bright as the finest emeralds yet colder than ice.

A mediocre shade of grey colored the unicorn's coat, contrasting with the golden armor and stray helmet nearby. Ulysses, sudden smile snaking across his face, leaned closer.

"What would you give for the pain to stop?"

The unicorn looked up with glassy eyes, barely capable of speech "An-an-anything..."

"How far would you be willing to go for relief? For ultimate freedom?" Ulysses asked.

"A-as far as I-I needed to g-go."

Standing up, the human waved Jericho over, and Jericho, having already seen the strange interaction, approached readily, rifle prepared to end another life.

"Is he to die?" Jericho asked calmly.

Ulysses shook his head briefly "Not this one. Take him to the medical wing. I want him alive."

Jericho, despite the surprise registering on his face, agreed nonetheless "Very well." there was a pause "Why?"

Silence greeted the question for a moment, eventually broken by Ulysses "There is no greater weapon than to turn an enemy to your cause. To use their knowledge against themselves is something unmatched in power." he looked at Jericho "Assemble the leaders. They will answer for this."

Jericho nodded slowly, perhaps not understanding. Ulysses turned and walked away, the smoke of burning bodies curling up behind him.

[SCENE BREAK]

Ulysses slammed his hand down on the table "This is the second time that you've allowed a person to escape! Do I have to do everything myself?"

The collected audience remained quiet apart from the shuffling of feet and clicking of talons. Ulysses, taking a deep breath, continued on, voice dripping with venom "Because Westin is no longer with us, I leave the majority of all security measures up to you…" He pointed towards Gerard Richardson, the griffon ambassador, and Adjule, leader of the Diamond Dogs, "And now you've failed for a second time. How can you expect me to put faith in your abilities any longer? Especially in light of recent events?"

Adjule cleared his through nervously "I have no excuse. We failed, and as hard as that is to admit, I can ensure you that it will never happen again."

"Indeed, never again." Gerard chimed in distantly.

Taking a seat tiredly, Ulysses let out a sigh, speaking once more "I understand that we cannot control every nook and cranny, but it is your responsibility to try!" He paused "Bring me a prisoner."

Adjule nodded towards a nearby dog and the mangy canine took off, sprinting in order to fulfill the command. Ulysses, breathing heavily, looked at the room around him. It was undoubtedly for the purpose of meetings, although in older times it would have been for discussion of far lighter topics, but no longer. A long table was centered above a recently replaced hardwood floor and apart from a large glass window next to the door, the walls were exclusively high quality plaster; most likely soundproofed.

Minutes passed and a clock ticked slowly, further adding to Ulysses' anger. Adjule looked about as if attempting to memorize every detail of room which surrounded his nervous body. Sir Gerard Richardson seemed intent on examining his ivory cane and he adjusted his monocle with a twitchy talon. Two dogs, both tall and muscular, guarded the door and M16's were slung over their shoulders, leading up to expressionless faces. Ulysses stood up as the door was opened and watched with cold eyes as the prisoner was pushed inwards by a dog.

It was entirely obvious from the welts and broken nose that the young brown stallion had been tortured and beaten, and Ulysses, looking over the gag and blindfold, grabbed the prisoner by the mane and dragged him around the table, oblivious of the muffled cries and yells. He shoved the bleeding stallion against the wall and raised his pistol.

There was a crack as the bullet discharged and drove its way into the prisoner's brain, causing a stream of blood to shoot outwards from the gaping hole in the back of his skull. Bits of brain, coagulated blood, and shards of bone decorated the wall and the body fell sideways, leaving a smear on the already stained plaster. Utter silence followed the gunshot and Ulysses stared down at the pooling blood before turning his attention to the ashen-faced audience.

"You will devote your time and effort to finding that piece of machinery and returning it here. You will find out which level it came from and find any documents relating to prisoners or civilians on that same level and give them to me. Do you understand?"

Adjule and Gerard nodded hurriedly and left, their guards and other aides following them. Ulysses looked down at the mess he had left and looked at his own personal bodyguard, a griffon named Michael.

"Find someone to clean that up and check out what condition that unicorn is in."

Michael nodded and left, leaving Ulysses alone in the room. The man wiped a small fleck of blood from his cheek. He hadn't changed at all.

[SCENE BREAK]

Pain. Waves of it, nauseating and dizzying swept through the blackness. The stallion let out a dry, raspy gasp as the world returned to him, sending his eyelids fluttering open like a butterfly breaking its way out of a cocoon. Bile dripped from the young stallion's lips and he coughed painfully. His sight, although askew and blurry, helped to identify his immediate surroundings.

White ceilings, white floors, white walls, white sheets, and an uncomfortably bright light which seemed to burrow into the recesses of his skull. Footsteps, which came across as loud and ringing, informed the stallion that somebody had entered the room, but the sweeping pain came again and he found himself unable to turn his head. The sound stopped and the stallion, struggling to keep conscious, found himself staring into a pair of shocking green eyes.

"What is your name?"

It was more of a demand than a question and the stallion choked out a reply "I-I..."

The voice trailed off and the green oceans narrowed "Your name is Alec. Do you understand?"

"Yes." the stallion's voice seemed to grow stronger.

"Good. You've been injured badly, but you're stable now." there was a pause "Let's get you on your feet."

The world spun like a top and Alec, clutching feebly to Ulysses, lurched off the hospital cot and onto the freezing tile floor. Ulysses let the unicorn down slowly and watched as he attempted to regain his bearings, still unaware of what he had undergone. Metal bands, shining like stars in the harsh light wrapped around Alec's left side, molded into the flesh by magical means, and where the metal met the skin, swelling had occurred, coloring the skin a dark red.

The same type prosthesis decorated the top of Alec's left shoulder and stretched down, crossing over his spine and ran down his back right leg, further connecting to a set of steel claws which seemed to have been melted into the unicorn's hoof. Ulysses helped the young soldier to his hooves and aided him out of the room, further escorting him down the hall.

"S-somethings really, really wrong. I don't feel right...I-I don't feel..."

Ulysses repeated his previous statement "You've been injured. What you're feeling are the side effects of the surgery."

Alec shook his head in an attempt to clear his rapidly failing vision. Colors flew past him on either side and mixed into a vibrant mosaic which threatened to disorient him even further. Ulysses, struggling to keep the stallion upright, smiled slightly. The amount of opportunities that would come from Alec were immeasurable. The smile remained on Ulysses' face even after the young equine had collapsed back into unconsciousness.

He had survived a firefight, a grenade, and was nearly ready to stand mere hours after a critical surgery. There was untapped potential in Alec, and Ulysses, calling nonchalantly for a doctor, smiled once again at his new apprentice.

[SCENE BREAK]

The sun had begun to reach it's highest point in the sky and Ulysses watched as it shone down upon the encampment. He approved of the progress being made outside, but it was a strange contrast when compared to the technological facility only meters away. It was a comforting location for Ulysses; locked between rural and industrial seemed perfect for him.

Eyes no longer on the sun, Ulysses turned his attention back to himself. He was dressed in a new uniform now, one which would be more appropriate for the mission he was about to embark on. Ezekiel's sudden arrival had been a stroke of good luck, apart from the three fatalities, but with the cargo lift now operational and accessible, new floors of the facility were open.

It would appear that the power surges had worked for the better this time and even as Ulysses tightened his new attire, dogs were beginning repairs below him. The facility was being uncovered bit by bit. No longer concerned with such things, Ulysses looked himself over in the dull reflection of a nearby office window.

Once again, he had to thank the rampaging exosuit. The military gear Ezekiel had uncovered in the lift had been secured and distributed to high ranking officers. Ulysses patted the kevlar plate which covered his vital organs and made sure that the shinguards were tightly in place. The black fabric, most likely a mixture between nylon and cotton, fit snugly over Ulysses' body and he made sure that the other kevlar plate on his back was also secured before moving onto his next piece of clothing.

He pulled a balaclava over his face, opting for a more intimidating appearance instead of leaving his face revealed. Ulysses let out a long breath and picked up the duffle bag at his feet. It was heavy, but not terribly so and he took a moment to remember what he had packed for his mission.

A SIG SG 550 assault rifle, equipped with a silencer and scope, lay inside the bag next to several extra magazines and Ulysses' trusty USP .45 pistol. There were also basic provisions, such as water and saltine crackers, but Ulysses knew that he wouldn't be gone for more than a day at most.

Ponyville wasn't that far and he knew that was where the recent troublemakers had fled to. There was no other settlement near Catskills Research and Development Institute. Whether the escapees were under lock and key or roaming freely about in town mattered little to Ulysses. He was going to kill them either way. He chuckled, he'd even settle for one, but the message would remain the same: you didn't abandon your fellow humans.

Ulysses' brow furrowed as he remembered the final item in the duffle bag. It was a file, detailing the man who was most likely the recent escapee. The information had been restricted for the most part, but Ulysses knew enough about this 'Ezekiel' to know that he might prove troublesome. There had been mention of the SVR being related to the man and his unauthorized presence in the facility, but Ulysses would make sure he was dead before the next sunrise regardless.

There was a small second of silence as Ulysses took his first step out the main doors and towards Ponyville. He was going out to murder another person, something which he had not truly done in a long time, and it brought a smile to his face. Still, there would be another factor to be added to his mission, and an unexpected one at that.

[SCENE BREAK]

Aaron felt his throat dry up for the few minutes he'd already been in Ponyville. Most ponies cowered at him walking through their once peaceful village, some shot angry glares, and just a very minute fraction gave him approving looks. Still, it was disheartening to know he was already being heavily distrusted for something he had no part of. The Princess walking beside him seemed to radiate a sense of comfort towards him however, and he remained by her side as if his life depended on it, which it most likely did.

"As you can see, the town is populated by mostly ponies."

He looked at the Princess, who was giving him a funny look, "I was paying attention, Your Highness. I apologize if it seems like I wasn't."

The Sun Goddess gave a bright smile, "Something's bothering you, correct?"

"No," Aaron purposely lied. "I'm fine for now."

She stopped and gave him a motherly look, crumbling nearly all confidence he had, "Really? It doesn't seem that way."

The human rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "Well... It's just that no one here seems to actually like me, let alone approve of me being here. Did I do something wrong already? Like some kind of cultural thing I may have accidentally done that may have gotten me on everyone's bad side?"

"Everypony," Celestia corrected, nuzzling him, which garnered the attention of a few passerby's, "And worry not, you've done nothing wrong."

"Then why is it that everyon- er... Everypony seems to avoid me? Is it the way I look or something?"

"Of course not, you've simply been preceded by a duo of other humans that didn't exactly give the best first impressions, if you recall me mentioning that earlier."

He nodded, "I do. Hope they learn to look past that and you know... not hate me."

The Princess continued, "In time, they'll learn that you present no threat. Who knows, maybe you'll even win them over well enough for them to treat you one and the same as them."

Aaron sagged slightly, "I doubt that, Your Majesty. I don't exactly fit in with hors- uh, ponies. If this place is anything like where I'm from, looks mean everything and anything as precedent."

Celestia continued towards the library, "You'll come to notice that looks aren't all that important to ponies." She glanced back with another smile, "It's the heart that does."

As corny as that was to hear for him, he felt it was true, despite previously thinking otherwise. For whatever reason, Aaron felt as though she was right. Always right. No matter what. He wasn't sure why, but the large, white horse next to him gave off an aura that just made her seem completely trustable, as if she were capable of knowing all and never misleading him. He resisted to believe such things without even knowing her for half an hour, but somewhere within, he felt that resistance beginning to give way.

"We're here," she mentioned in her always beautiful voice.

Aaron looked around, seeing nothing that looked like a library. The human turned to his left, then his right, then all the way around as if it were behind him the whole time. She pointed a hoof towards the tree nearby and kept herself from grinning at his confusion. Aaron looked at the tree and soon realized that there were doors and windows decorating the outside of it.

"How did I even miss that..?"

"I won't tell anyone. Now, let's head inside, shall w-"

The Princess stopped as a scroll appeared in a puff of smoke before her. She used her magic to lift it up, much to Aaron's amazement.

"Whoa..."

She quickly read the missive and rolled it back up before setting it on fire. The Princess stole a look at Aaron as his eyes just faintly reflected back the flames creeping upwards. His jaw, much like it had been when she first met him, was slack once again. She wondered why he had such fascination with something as prevalent as magic, but saved the question for another time.

"It appears," the Princess began, "that I have business back in Canterlot to take care of for the time being."

Aaron blinked and seemed to instantly become nervous, "Y-You're leaving? Me? Here? A-Alone?"

The Sun Goddess placed a hoof on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes, calming him down significantly, "I'll try to come back as soon as possible, but for now, I trust that you can handle yourself accordingly until I get back. Knock at the door and my student will help you get situated for tonight until we can figure out what to do with you." She noticed his frightened look and face-hoofed, "I worded that incorrectly... What I mean is that I'm sure you're going to want to start a new life somewhere, and it doesn't hurt to make contacts amongst different ponies. My student should help you with that until a later time." She nuzzled him one last time, "Now, is there anything you'd like to ask before I leave?" The human shook his head, "Enjoy yourself then, and make sure to stay out of trouble. Oh, and my student will be eager to ask you questions."

The Princess stood back and lit her horn, casting a teleportation spell back to the Canterlot Castle. Right as she was about to leave, she recalled something. She hadn't told Twilight about the new human. Surely nothing could go wrong, right? Oh, how she hoped so.

[SCENE BREAK]

Twilight Sparkle, Celestia's prized pupil, opened an old tome and began reading aloud, "'Humans were a type of land creature that stood on two legs, and if the situation called for it, could become predators capable of destruction that could end worlds with only an utterance of a word. They cradled the Earth in their hands and ruled it with an iron fist, casting down all other species to servitude. They lacked magic, but knew of secrets that bent the universe to their will.'" She frowned, "How were they able to do that without knowing magic?"

The unicorn continued reading, "'Their technology outrivaled anything anypony could think possible, and the stories of the excursions where this technology was used is still remembered today in the books of children, minus the destruction and violence of course. But these creatures lacked the proper foresight to see what was coming to them, an apocalypse like no other. Disasters all around the globe crippled the humans, cutting their numbers down quickly. It still isn't know what it was that caused the mass disappearance of humans, but some scholars believe that their technology reached to a point where they were either able to leave this dimension or universe for better prospects, or that they escaped through the sky and into the heavens.' Well, obviously not," she quipped, "They're roaming around right now, attacking everypony."

"'Proof of either has yet to have been found. As humanity was experiencing its last days, the creatures they had pushed down had risen up, ready to take over the planet for themselves. These same creatures are the very ones that populate Earth today, such as Griffons or Equestrians. The humans, the living gods that controlled the world, fell to the forces of the combined armies, but not before decimating large numbers themselves. Still, in the end, all remnants of humanity were wiped off the planet mysteriously.'"

"'They've become the things of old tales and myths, the urban legends of times long passed. Some races such as the Diamond Dogs insist that prophecies state that these bi-pedal mysteries will return one day to claim vengeance, but all has been dismissed as simple superstition. Of course, The Mare in The Moon Tale also was thought to be superstition, and it seems that even the greatest of myths resurface sometimes. Should it ever occur that these tragic gods revive from the ashes of an ancient and broken world, there would be such an intensity to their actions that all nations themselves may lose vigor in confronting them. Celestia help us all, should such a thing occur.'"

Twilight shut the book, concentrating on what she had just read. What exactly were these humans capable of? The tome spoke of them as if they were gods who suffered from an untold apocalypse or other disaster. Yet, nothing in any other of her books gave reference to such a thing occurring in the known history of Earth.

"Then again, these are only books from Equestria…"

She made a mental note to order more from neighboring nations regarding folklore and human mythos as soon as possible. Every little detail could help shed more light on the humans and their intriguing ways. Deadly and unnecessary, but oddly fascinating as well. But that one human... the darker one... Why wasn't her magical telekinesis able to get a grip on it? It made no sense, yet a simple stun spell brought it down easy. In fact, she could have ju-

A knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. That in itself was a surprise for her, but she focused on the pony on the other end of the door more than how much of a bookworm she was. Twilight stood up from her studying desk and headed to the door, not ready for what she was going to see.

[SCENE BREAK]

Aaron's palms were sweating and he looked around quickly. Several ponies were walking around, all staring at him. It was so incredibly nerve-wracking, and the situation he was currently in was no more helpful. Knowing that your entire world had been extinguished and replaced by a bunch of small horses was the thing that kind of killed your good mood on most days. Regardless, he forced himself closer to the door and knocked twice.

His heart raced as the clip-clopping of hooves became louder and louder. Then, the door opened to reveal a shorter unicorn staring at his mid-section, as if it were a pony.

"Hello, what can I..."

The female voice trailed off as her eyes looked upwards. His own darted from side to side and he let out a nervous chuckle to ease the situation. Aaron looked back at her and quickly took in her looks. Purplish, shorter than him, darker purple mane with a magenta streak, a horn atop her head, and big, innocent eyes that just simply looked at him.

He did the first thing that came to mind and held a hand, "Hi, I'm Aar-"

Unfortunately for him, the unicorn flung some kind of pulse of magic at his chest, sending him two meters back and onto the ground. Aaron gasped out in pain as his eyes opened in pure shock. What had he done wrong? Was it an insult to offer a handshake to ponies? He didn't know. He didn't even have that much time before he rolled out of the way, barely dodging another bolt of energy. He stood upwards and tried dashing away, only to trip and hit his head on the stone pathway.

Stunned for a brief moment, Aaron sat up with blurred vision. He could barely make out the smudge of purple shining again brightly. The human held out his hands and waved them slowly, as if to dispel the fight and any aggressiveness. The magical energy connected with his head, and he fell back once again, this time fully unconscious.

[SCENE BREAK]

Princess Celestia trotted down the dank hallway, flanked by two of her guards. They kept in step with her as was taught and kept their eyes forward. The trio stopped by an iron cell door, with a viewing window blocked by several bars close to her eye level. A peculiar smell wafted out, but the Princess paid it no mind. She glanced at the human within for a moment before turning her head to the guards for a mere second. When she looked back, the human was gone.

"W-What? How could- He was just here a moment ago!"

One of the guards unlocked the cell door quickly, followed by all three rushing inside. The dark human popped out from beneath the metal table and started yelling some obscene form of song. Celestia's heart dropped near instantly. It was a little known fact, but Equestrians contained a gland that forced them to engage in song if one started singing, with the Equestrians going along in every case.

"WE DON'T GIVE A WHAT WHAT!"

One of her guards blurted out, "GET IT ON THE FLOOR!"

"WHAT!" She screamed.

The other guard yelled, "YOU DON'T WANNA PARTY THEN YOUR ASS GOTTA GO!"

"NOW YOU CAN RIDE TO THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" The human began.

Celestia attempted to hold in her voice to no avail, "BOUNCE TO THIS MOTHERFUCKER!"

"FREAK TO THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" a guard yelled a moment later.

The human grinned from behind the table, "Once again, it's the darker nigga! Hit or spark a nigga, break apart a nigga!"

A deep scowl cut across the second guard's face, "But the dog is bigger, under stress! So unless you're wanting to bless to the chest!"

"These slugs from his liver rest, REST! Or the pump'll put a hurt on a nigga!" Celestia continued, extremely confused by what she was singing.

"DUMB SEX, motherfucker feeding dirt on a nigga! My hands stay dirty, cause I play dirty the mob way!" The human began some sort of dance, forcing the ponies to join in as well.

Celestia nearly screamed out in agony at the situation she was in. It was beyond horrific and she knew she wouldn't last much longer at this rate. Still, she had to remain strong, for all of Equestria's sake.

ONE MINUTE LATER

At this point, Princess Celestia was on the verge of tears. It wasn't normal at all for such a thing to happen to a Princess, but this one scene was pushing all of her limits. Thankfully, it seemed to be almost over as the human finished up the last lines.

"All my motherfucking life I been the Devil's advocate! Now niggas never even knew the devil had a kid! But he does and when you hear the buzz of the chainsaw, you'll know what I'll split your motherfucking brains for!"

It ended there and the equines breathed a combined sigh of relief. Suddenly, the human flipped the table and gave a hard smack to Celesia's flank.

"YO, YO, C'MON!"

The Princess, much to her own surprise, neighed and reeled back before quickly exiting the room alongside her guards, who were sweating. They all exchanged looks while panting. Celestia quickly caught her breath and locked the door.

She looked at her guards, "None of this ever happened. Understood?" They nodded, eager to put what had just happened behind them, "Good. We'll visit him again later when he's calmed down." She shuddered, "Such a horrific excuse for a song..."

[SCENE BREAK]

Ezekiel looked over the town with a sigh of relief. The sun was now staining the sky a deep amber, signifying early evening. The man had been jogging on and off for roughly two hours and now he had finally reached his goal, despite having no idea that he had been heading towards the town in front of him. Wiping the sweat off his face, Ezekiel began to walk towards the only sign of civilization he had seen since the facility miles behind him.

It had taken some trudging through swamps, a fair bit of bushwacking, and a generally advanced sense of direction, but it had paid off and Ezekiel was looking forward to spending a night in a warm, comfortable bed, preferably with a hearty dinner beforehand. He ignored the carbine which swung from its strap. It might come in handy as a bargaining tool later.

Soon Ezekiel was standing in the shadows of an alleyway and began to jog once again, not truly bothering to scout out the town beforehand. He was hungry, exhausted, thirsty, and in a bad mood. The brash man turned a corner and found himself in the middle of a wide street, surrounded by the miniature horses which he had seen earlier. He let out a tired gasp in response to the sudden appearance of pastel-colored equines, bringing attention to himself.

There were several screams and yells, but before Ezekiel could do or say anything, he found himself flung to the ground by an invisible force. Struggling was useless as each of his limbs seemed immobilized, prohibiting the man from even giving a feeble kick or a tiny thrash. His eyes, however, still managed to work and he looked over the strange encasement of waving air, a pale yellow in color, which seemed to have him confined to the ground.

Princess Celestia held onto Ezekiel tightly with her magic. It had been an amazing stroke of luck for her to run across the new human. In fact, she had only returned from Canterlot seconds ago, indeed surprised to see a new human running around the streets of Ponyville. But it mattered little now, as the twitching man was pinned and incapable of moving.

Ezekiel was now the third human in Ponyville and was less than happy about it judging by the slew of curses coming from his mouth. Princess Celestia, unfamiliar with the language, added another simple spell to the mix, one which allowed her to understand what any creature was saying, human or otherwise. She shuddered at the uncouth words, ones which were similar to the things she had heard come out of the other human who remained locked up in Canterlot.

Shaking her head slightly, Princess Celestia approached the captured Ezekiel, "My, my! Another human! What a pleasant surprise!"

Ezekiel shook his head as much as he could. Talking horses now? Surely he was hallucinating beyond measure. He looked up angrily at Celestia, cussing at her as much as he could, but there was little he could do in his state. He was locked down in some type of forcefield and he hadn't been that strong to begin with.

Celestia carried on happily "If you stop with such language, i'm sure we could work something out." She looked down at Ezekiel's haggard state "Maybe a meal? A bed, perhaps?"

The unrefined language stopped and Ezekiel looked up, the side of his face pushed into the dirt street. Celestia ignored the crowd of ponies which had gathered "I will release you, but you must understand that I mean you no harm. You merely surprised me."

There was a forced nod and Ezekiel found the force which had been holding him down vanish. He got to his feet slowly, picked up his weapon, and pulled the strap back over his shoulder, showing that violence was last on his list of priorities. The princess smiled beautifully.

"Thank you. You can keep whatever that is." A nod of the alicorn's horn indicated the firearm "Please, come with me. I'm sure you would feel more at home with another of your kind."

Ezekiel shrugged, despite being severely confused. The entire situation was unbelievable, and not in a good way either, but his only chance to figure things out was to see if this other human knew what was going on. Princess Celestia began to walk, waving away citizens and the occasional guard as they approached Twilight's library. It was an impressive architectural feat, but Ezekiel took little notice of it and stood by Celestia's side as she knocked on the door and looked over at him.

"You'll find it quite nice here. They treat their guests quite well!"

SCENE BREAK

All six Elements of Harmony carefully stared at the unconscious human tied to a chair in front of them with shared curiosity. Both Applejack and Rainbow Dash in specific seemed to be glaring instead, probably still a little angry with what had happened earlier. Luckily for them, however, Princess Celestia stopped by and fixed them up in an instant, no pain included. For the pegasus, it was good to finally be able to stretch her wings and go through the sky once more. For the Earth pony, it was even better now that she was away from the smell of antiseptic and now able to enjoy the ones of apples and her farm. They did still hold a grudge though.

The Earth pony in question gave a light slap to Twilight's back in pride, "Well, Ah'll be Twi'! That's the second one ya'll managed to wrastle down! The Princess sure is gonna be mighty proud to call ya'll her student."

Twilight Sparkle smiled at the compliment and forced herself not to cringe at the sting the slap caused, "Thanks, Applejack. Hopefully we'll be able to talk to this one before the Princess gets here."

"Whatever happened to that other one, darling?" Rarity asked. "Surely it's in custody of the Royal Guard and not running rampant?"

"Of course, Rarity. There's no way he could ever get away from the Guard with the condition he was in."

Rainbow Dash flew up to the chest of the light-brown haired human sitting in the chair and jabbed him with her hoof, eliciting a stir, "Say... what's the big idea about this one? He doesn't look like the other ones."

Rarity looked the human up and down, "Whatever do you mean? They're nearly the same..." She shuddered, "... and the clothes on them..."

"I-I think what Dash means i-" Fluttershy began.

"What I mean is that there's something different about this one!" The cyan pegasus squinted her eyes at the human and flew in extra close, "I can feel it! Whoa!"

Applejack yanked her friend back by her tail, "Now why would ya'll go and do that? Did ya see the biters on that thing?"

"But-"

"But nothin'! That thing could take yer muzzle clean off!"

Twilight cut in, "Girls, it's going to be out for a while, so I don't think there's going to be anything to worry about."

Rainbow Dash stuck her tongue out at Applejack, "But that doesn't mean you should antagonize it. Who knows what it could do."

Rarity gave a small smile, "Well, frankly, I'm a bit surprised Pinkie Pie hasn't suggested throwing it a party yet."

The pink pony in question gasped loudly and grabbed Rarity by the cheeks, pressing them together and staring into her eyes, "That's a great idea, Rarity! It'll be super-duper-extra-mega-duper fun!"

"Y-You said duper twice..." Fluttershy added, hiding behind Twilight.

A groaning from nearby broke everyone their conversation, forcing their eyes towards the source of the sounds. Slowly, the head limply went upwards and stood there for a mere moment. His dazed, blue eyes glanced around before his head fell back down again. More moans escaped his lips before he shook his head wildly, clearing the stupor from his brain. As he opened his eyes, they were met with those of Rainbow Dash, who was glaring icily at him. Shocked, Aaron attempted to jump away, only to realize he was strapped tidily to a chair. Still, the startling sight made the chair lose it's balance, and he soon fell back, hitting the back of his head against the floor.

"Ow..."

He spotted a hoof slamming down next to his face, "Now, ya'll are gonna start answerin' some questions, ya hear? And don'tcha even think of lying ta me, cause ah'll know."

Aaron swallowed and looked up, meeting the deadly gaze of some pony he didn't know, "A-Alright, alright!"

Applejack's brow furrowed, "Well that was easy."

"Listen, I don't want any trouble! Can't you just let me g-"

Rainbow Dash kicked a hoof at his kidney, "That's for messing me and Applejack up earlier, you jerk!"

It was, without a doubt, extremely surprising that such a smaller creature was capable of inflicting that large a pain onto him. Unlike a punch, this jabbed at him hard enough that it would definitely bruise badly later. In fact, he was fairly certain that bloody urine or internal bleeding was going to be a problem as well. He let out a labored gasp and winced, feeling his eyes tear up from the blow. For a brief amount of time, his ears rang and the nausea kicked in, preventing his senses from understanding his current situation other than that he was currently being hurt.

"... Rainb..." Words faded in and out, "...Can't bel-... did that! ... was cooperating!"

While his head lay against the floor, he made out the image of a purple set of hooves push away the cyan ones, who were dangerously close to himself. Despite his thoughts being clouded, Aaron knew he was just a bit safer, letting him breathe a sigh of relief. The purple set of hooves jumped back in surprise as the breath hit it. It turned quiet once again, yet he was still tied to the chair, preventing him from even getting up. A purple aura covered him momentarily and propped the chair upwards again. His vision faded in and out without serious focus, letting him see doubles of the Equestrian directly in front of him.

"... sorry... gets like... -imes wi-... thinking. Ar-... alright?"

Aaron slumped slightly but forced his head up to meet hers, "N... no... That... really hurt..."

Even through his wavy eyesight, he was able to notice the concerned look the pony had for him. The blow to his head (which felt like it was throbbing uncontrollably) seemed to make him lose some of his fear of being tortured or experimented on.

Aaron craned his head out and scooted forward from his seat, letting the legs scrape against the hardwood floor. Some of the ponies' ears lowered at the sharp sound, but the purple one didn't seem to really take notice as he kept his eyes on her. Given what he was doing, he assumed that his boldness was achieved possibly by the effects of the concussion he had just received. Nonetheless, he finally reached his desired spot in front of the purple equine and found himself staring into her equally purple eyes.

The rest of the world seemed to fade away with the exception of those two irises, and his deep breaths hit her, making the shorter being shiver ever so slightly. Aaron was lost within her eyes and found some sort of spark he had never seen before. It was odd, but so very interesting. Without a semblance of hesitation, the human broke the ice.

"How are you?"

Twilight didn't respond for a few moments, continuing to meet his gaze, "... I-I'm good..."

"Good," he responded, smiling.

Just then, before things could go any further, there was a knock at the door and the two were forced to break away from each other's eyes. Aaron blinked a few times, feeling suddenly funny for whatever reason. Twilight quickly trotted to the door and opened it, revealing the visitors.

SCENE BREAK

The guard let out a loud yawn, eyes bleary from a prolonged shift. He absently pawed at the pebbles below his feet and, being obviously bored, glanced over Ponyville which sat below him. Sweet Apple Acres lay off to his left and he briefly considered sneaking away with an evening snack, but a mere glimpse of the nearby Everefree forest made him reconsider. He had to be vigilant.

There was no telling when those humans might return to wreak more havoc. The guard shuddered at the thought of the walking creatures. They were dangerous, far more dangerous than any other creature he had fought. Fueled by anger and amazing technology, they had force enough to rip through Equestria, and the guard wondered why they hadn't already. He shrugged the thought off and hunkered down next to his small fire.

He was situated on a rocky outcropping between the Apple's orchard and the Everfree. A fire burned within a circle of small rocks and a bedroll lay nearby, helmet and spear placed atop it. The guard began a short, whistling song, more focused on the flickering flames in front of him. They were oddly mesmerizing and he watched them intently. There would be no attack he was sure of it.

He began to mutter gruffly "This post...of all the plac-"

There was a series of strange whip-like sounds, and the guard fell sideways, a line of bullets cutting a diagonal line from his lower back and across his spine. There was a feeble twitch before the light faded from the stallion's eyes and he slumped down comfortably, dead within seconds.

Ulysses walked past nonchalantly, sniper rifle in hand and duffle bag in the other. He glanced down at the corpse for a few seconds before setting his eyes on the quaint town of Ponyville. It had been fortified in several places. A wooden barricade had been erected around several main areas, but there were still alleyways left open. Ulysses took in the sights of armed patrols and several tents on the outskirts of the town, suggesting a temporary increase in security.

It was hardly surprising. The jailhouse had been completely demolished, apparently being rebuilt. Setting his duffle bag down, Ulysses dragged the nearby body to the edge and casually rolled it off the outcropping, watching it bounce and tumble down the steep incline below. If the guard had been faking death, he surely wasn't now. Ulysses checked his watch, a digital model he had been forced to use after his original had expired after three thousand years.

The time was exactly 7:13 AM. Ulysses set down his duffle bag and unzipped it, removing a picture of Ezekiel from the file within. He scanned it for a few moments before clipping it to his sleeve with a small paperclip. Next up came the rifle and Ulysses set it down, unfolding the built in bipod, and took a breath before going prone, letting his one open eye look down the scope.

He scanned the town, crossing over streets, small stores, and the occasional pony. Surely it couldn't be that difficult to find a human in a town full of four and five foot ponies. Ulysses pondered the small creatures for a moment, letting his crosshairs drift over one who seemed to have a set of lazy eyes. He chuckled slightly at the sight, but as soon as he caught sight of the small, similar foal by the pony's side, he let his rifle barrel drift away from them.

Ulysses paused in his scanning and checked the silencer which was screwed tightly onto the modified barrel which had been customized to accept the sound suppressor. The man put his cheek back onto the stock and aimed once again. He liked the rifle. Something about it made him giddy with excitement. Ulysses pondered that word. 'Giddy' he wasn't a man to say such a thing, but he ignored it.

Crosshairs now over a large tree of sorts, the murderer clicked his tongue in appreciation at the architecture of the home, but as his crosshairs drifted downwards, he caught sight of a human leg just as it disappeared into the abode, door shutting behind it. Ulysses let a slight frown cross his visage. He'd have another chance, he was sure of it.

He loaded the weapon and waited.

SCENE BREAK

Princess Celestia smiled as the door opened, revealing her favorite pony, "My faithful student Twilight Sparkle, how are..."

She looked past the smiling student and spotted Aaron restrained to a chair, not even bothering to break free from the tight ropes that confined him. Celestia looked back down at Twilight, then back at Aaron. Her happy mood dropped and she soon found herself with an uncharacteristic frown.

"Twilight..."

"Yes, Princess?" the purple mare chirped.

"Why is our esteemed guest tied up and looking as though he's on the verge of falling unconscious?"

Twilight blinked and looked back at Aaron, whose head was lolling around in a circular fashion, "Uh... esteemed guest?" She managed out, cringing at the turn of events.

Celestia looked down upon her student, unamused, "Yes, Twilight, why do you think I sent him here of all places? I assumed that you'd treat him as well as anypony else."

"But-"

"No buts, Twilight. I'd like you to-"

Rainbow Dash quickly cut in and fibbed, "Princess, he attacked her first!"

From far back, Aaron chipped in, "Yeah... I was afraid and attacked her when I saw that horn pointed at me..." He thought for an appropriate lie, "It brought back bad memories..."

Princess Celestia looked between her student and the human. Twilight stared at Aaron in disbelief at the fact he played along despite that he did absolutely nothing wrong and was willing to take the blame. The other five ponies shifted around uneasily at the tenseness of the situation while Ezekiel simply stood at the doorway. The Princess made her way to Aaron and lit her horn, whispering in his ear while doing so.

"You didn't need to cover for her. The only punishment I had in mind was having her write a friendship letter on why what she did was wrong, you know. Here, let me fix those wounds for you for being such a gentlecolt."

Aaron nodded his head as the ropes came off and hit the floor. A pale-yellow glow formed around him and all of his pain was suddenly nonexistent. His head stopped throbbing altogether while his abdomen felt perfectly fine. He sighed in relief and gave a small bow to Celestia.

"Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, you are our guest after all. Now," she turned to the ponies, "I'd like all of you to meet another visitor, Eze- Er... I apologize; I don't quite recall how you pronounced it."

"Ezekiel." The reply came quick and to the point, although the accent made it somewhat difficult to understand.

"Ah yes, Ezekiel." She turned back to the Elements, "As you can see, he too is a human who has decided to peacefully become a member of Equestrian society, much like Aaron."

Aaron smiled with relief and went for a handshake "Hey, I'm Aaron."

Ezekiel simply looked at the outstretched hand, his eyes traveling from the appendage up to Aaron's face. Aaron lowered his hand awkwardly and Ezekiel snorted somewhat contemptuously.

Princess Celestia smiled regardless, "I'm sure you'll all become very good friends with each other. Is there anything you'd like to mention about yourselves?"

"Uh..." Aaron began, "I'm from Phoenix..."

"You came... from a Phoenix?" The Sun Goddess asked in confusion.

He cleared his throat, "No, Phoenix, Arizona actually. In the United States."

"Fascinating; what was it you did in Phoenix?"

Aaron stuttered as all the ponies watching him in anticipation, "I-I was a mechanic at an autobody shop."

"Autobody?"

"Cars."

She gave him a curious look before moving on, "You'll have to tell me more about all of that at a later time. Now, Ezekiel, is there anything you want to tell us about yourself?"

Ezekiel looked over the ponies and human "No."

"That was quick. Are you absolutely sure?" Princess Celestia asked, showing a confused look.

There was a simple nod, indicating that Ezekiel was completely sure of his answer. The regal princess shrugged somewhat uncaringly.

"As you wish."

A scroll popped up in front of Celestia, surprising both of the humans. She quickly opened and read it, scrutinizing every little detail. The Princess incinerated it a moment later and smiled at her subjects.

"It appears Luna needs help back at the castle. I'll arrive again tomorrow around noon to discuss more with our guests, who I hope you'll all help get settled in Ponyville. Oh, and you two colts better not get into any trouble, understand me? I'd rather not have to come back and have to deal out a punishment for any unruliness. Have a nice night!"

She disappeared in a flash, gone from Ponyville. There was now an awkward silence within the library.

SCENE BREAK

The sergeant of Ponyville Royal Guard was lounging absently near his designated checkpoint, more concerned with the pipe of cherry flavored tabac which hung from the corner of his mouth. He had been guarding Ponyville for over fifteen years, and in the whole time he'd been there, nothing as exciting as the humans and their attack had ever happened. Finally, some action.

The sergeant's name was Grey Spear, but he was usually called 'Sergeant Spear' or 'Sergeant Grey'. He was indifferent to either name and as he let out another puff of cherry smoke, a young soldier, fresh and untarnished from years of thankless work, approached him, seemingly nervous.

Spear spoke first "Something amiss, lad?

The stallion, obviously inexperienced and new to the job, nodded worriedly "Shift three hasn't returned from his watch. He's twelve minutes overdue."

Putting out the glowing embers of tabac, Spear stored the pipe away "Well, lead the way, laddy. Likely he got liquored up and feel asleep. He'll be in for a whippin' if thats the case."

The soldier nodded and the pair set off down the streets, ignoring the concerned looks of citizens and other soldiers alike. It was probably nothing but a case of laziness. The outcropping was a boring post to say the least and it was strange to think that the guard assigned to it wouldn't have returned by now. Usually any guard was quick to vacate the lonely spot and head down to the tavern.

Shrugging off the oddness, Spear and his young companion broke past the outskirts of town, following a dirt road to the post which was several stories up. A path had been cut into the hillside, leading upwards to a place which, in happier times, would have overlooked a beautiful town. Something caught Spear's eye as he reached the base of the rocky hill. It was hard to see in the faint light of the evening, but the object was most definitely some type of metal.

Spear spoke to the nearby unicorn guard "Shed some light, will ya?"

There was quick compliance and soon pale light spread from the guard's horn, illuminating the area. At the base of the path, twisted and broken, lay the body of a guard, perforated armor clearly seen. Spear felt his heart catch in his throat and he sprinted up the path, followed closely by his young companion. The stallion struggled to keep pace and he felt his mouth dry up. He was after a criminal for the first time and he wished he was still sleeping in his bunk.

Still chasing his superior, the guard unslung the spear from his back.

SCENE BREAK

Ulysses watched as Aaron and Ezekiel stepped out on the balcony. Neither seemed comfortable with each other, but it was obvious they preferred human company to equine at the moment. Aaron chose one corner of the balcony and Ezekiel stood at the other, carbine hanging from his shoulder. Ulysses was quietly surprised by that. He had assumed that any weapons would have been confiscated. He raised his head away from the scope and looked at the picture clipped to his sleeve. There was no mistaking Ezekiel.

Over two hundred meters away, more than seven stories up, Ulysses took aim with his weapon. He held the rifle with steady hands and his eye squinted down the precise scope. He could see Ezekiel's features, the small scar across his forehead, a slight sheen of sweat, a loose hair. He saw a finger come up and rub a soft temple. Slowly, carefully, Ulysses squeezed the trigger...

Seconds later he was staring down the telescopic scope in disbelief. Just as the primer had been struck, sending the bullet flying, Ezekiel had crouched down. The bullet flew overhead and vanished into the bottom of a planter, burrowing into soil with a soft '_vip_'. Later, Ulysses discerned that the SVR agent had actually been picking up a bit from the balcony floor, and that the bullet had missed his skull by mere millimeters, close enough to part Ezekiel's hair.

Ulysses shook his head in amazement. Never before had he missed a stationary target in his life, and behind the rifle, he began to swear quietly, vehemently. But there was still time. Aiming once again, Ulysses calmed himself and curled his finger around the trigger. Ezekiel was none the wiser, still having not realized death had, quite literally, brushed past him. The crosshairs were leveled once again and as Ulysses prepared to squeeze the trigger, he took a deep breath

The ringing of hooves on bare rocks and heavy panting slammed into Ulysses' ears and he knew that he had been found out. The younger guard was first onto the outcropping, staring in disbelief at the sight of a human rising out of a prone position. He could see the strange anatomy, armor, and the arms grasping technology unknown to him.

Ulysses turned with a single, fluid motion and fired from his hip, still in a half crouch. The slug ripped into the guard's exposed throat and exploded, sending bits of minuscule shrapnel ripping through precious veins and arteries. The guard stumbled backwards in surprise, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

He could see his mother baking him a pie in the kitchen. She was seeing him off. He was going somewhere, somewhere important, he felt it. Then there was blackness. Ulysses watched as the stallion crumpled to the ground, and his eyes locked onto Spear who had arrived just as the bullet had been fired. The two looked at each other with cold eyes, one hidden behind a mask, and the other staring from the shadows of a helmet.

Ulysses leveled the rifle at Spear and fired a silenced burst of bullets, sending the older guard tumbling over a collection of rocks, deposited in a heap somewhere down the unseen pathway. Hands working quickly, Ulysses turned and looked through the scope once again, but Aaron and Ezekiel were gone, vanished into the library. He let out another string of curses, surprising even himself at the profanity he knew.

The SG 550 was tossed unceremoniously into the duffle bag and Ulysses zipped it shut, slinging it over his shoulder as he knelt down next to the younger guard. Blood was beginning to pool and Ulysses, angry at himself, ripped the picture from his sleeve and inserted it behind the young stallion's helmet. He turned and ran from the scene.

Ulysses would be back. He would have his revenge.


	12. Chapter 12

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Eleven: The Art of Repercussions**

* * *

><p>The town car was silvery grey, sleek and professional. It's mirrors flashed as it exited the last of Astoria's main streets and continued onwards and onto the highway, flanked by trees and an overwhelming amount of green foliage. It was summer, or maybe late spring. Rain was falling and it pattered playfully on the windshield and roof of the expensive car.<p>

Ulysses sat in the back, dressed in a simple black turtleneck sweater and denim jeans. His eyes wandered out the window which seemed to be embracing the small droplets of water. Every so often, one would stretch and a slither over the glass, vanishing out of sight. Green eyes watched the scene repeated again and again.

Heather Beck, Ulysses mother, sat in front of him. She was rigid and dressed as if she had just come out from a board meeting. Her hair, a light auburn, was straightened and combed to perfection, reflecting an equally refined face which was covered with a light layer of makeup. She had been beautiful once, when she was younger. Now, Ulysses saw the difference between the photographs and the woman who sat in front of him, unspeaking.

There was a clap of thunder overhead and Ulysses snapped his attention away from his mother. He began to twist at the watch around his wrist. He had not grown into it yet and the silver matched the car which he sat inside. Ulysses blinked tiredly. A fifteen year old should not have had to move schools so early in the year. He didn't understand why no group would accept him.

Maybe he was different. Ulysses shrugged the thought off. Astoria was but one of the many cities he had lived in. He found it difficult to fit in anywhere and sometimes, when he was alone, he considered dropping school altogether and becoming a runaway. Surely he would see then if someone cared enough to come after him.

Black leather squeaked precariously as Ulysses shifted, considering the situation. He had been expelled from his high school, but this time it was different. His parents would not be moving with him. Ulysses had been sent to a private school, one where he would be "...set straight and no longer an unpredictable variable." as his father had so kindly put it.

His father. Ulysses looked over at the man who sat in the driver's seat, hands gripping the wheel as he continued down the road. George Beck was a quiet man, not given to fits of rage or yells, but he was a cold man nonetheless; a perfect pairing with Ulysses' mother. It was quite obvious that the relationship between father and son was tense to say the least. One, still attempting to understand himself and the world around him, was often pitted against an older, wiser man who apparently understood everything.

As if reading his mind, Ulysses' father spoke up, shattering the silence "Ulysses, when we reach the school, please be respectful. If I hear of any trouble with you..."

The threat died off as quickly as it had come, leaving Ulysses to ponder the punishments. He muttered his reply "Yeah."

Heather broke into the conversation "You've been quite a problem for the past two years, Ulysses. It cannot go on any longer. You've forced us to do this."

Ulysses hated that voice, that educated, well-formed, opinionated voice which screamed silent volumes at the boy. She wasn't even worth the reply. Ulysses could hear his luggage shifting in the trunk. His violin, clothing, guitar. He loved music. More than any other kid he had met, and despite his hatred for the violin, Ulysses played it incredibly well. He would never openly admit it, but he enjoyed the music which came from the instrument.

Forests now flanked Ulysses and he sighed as he watched the rain grow weak, deflected by a canopy of trees. There was movement in the rearview mirror and Ulysses looked up at it, spotting a big rig behind him. It was carrying oil no doubt, but Ulysses put it out of his mind. The town car cruised speedily down the road, eventually slowing behind a small compact.

George sighed at the sudden decrease in speed, but he cursed loudly as the compact let out a loud bang and swerved uncontrollably. It had popped a tire. The driver was obviously attempting to get to the side of the road, but the slippery asphalt was more of a hindrance than expected. George slammed on the brakes as the compact smacked into a guardrail and was sent back into the midst of the road, straight towards the Beck family.

There was a loud crunch of metal as the compact slammed into the side of the town car. George slammed on the brakes, only to be launched forward as something slammed into the back of the car. Ulysses saw his mother's pale face, heard the screams, and then his head flew forward and into the seat.

It took a moment to regain full consciousness and Ulysses let out a startled breath as he attempted to righten himself. It seemed darker now, almost black inside the car. Ulysses grasped at his head, feeling the swelling which throbbed angrily. His parents were slumped forward in their seats, airbags pushing on them fruitlessly. Ulysses shook them worriedly and let out a sigh of relief as his father came to.

"Jesus Christ...Ulysses, Heather? Are you two alright?"

Heather coughed, probably from a broken rib, and awoke with a start, looking around in fright. Everyone seemed cut up, thanks a cracked windshield. Ulysses wiped at his face, feeling something warm trickle down his cheek. His finger came away with a black smear and he looked upwards in surprise. Oil was soaking into the car.

The windshield was covered in tiny streams, steady drippings flowed from every nook and cranny. George let out a loud breath and went to start the car, perhaps not even seeing the oil or noticing the smell. He muttered something about holding other people up on the road and then he turned the key.

The car exploded into flames. White hot, orange flames shot into existence and Ulysses watched in horror as his parents vanished into an abyss of heat. He could hear their screams and see their writhing, their fruitless kicks. Ulysses yelled out in total horror and scrabbled for the door, but suddenly he felt the heat, as if it had been held back the entire time.

He was cloaked in it and he let out a yell of complete and utter fear as he discovered that he was, in fact, on fire. His skin was peeling, his hair smoking, and he could feel the destructive licking of the flames. His hands, still untouched, grasped at the handle, but it was jammed, stuck shut.

Someone was yelling from outside "Someone help them! Someone help!"

And then Ulysses felt a new pain, a fresh series of cuts on his face as the window nearest to him exploded inwards. The car was an inferno and Ulysses' seatbelt melted away, snapping from the heat. Something was grabbing him, something strong. He could feel breath on his neck and suddenly the scene was changed and Ulysses was pulled from death's grip.

There was screaming, yelling, sirens. But Ulysses couldn't hear anything. He was staring up into the sky, watching as the rain fell over him again and again.

* * *

><p>Steam poured out from the bathroom door and flooded the small room. Inside, the faint sound of lathering could be heard, revealing Ulysses' presence within the curtained area. His room was small, merely broken into two parts. One, the larger of the two, contained a small cot, bedside table, a wooden dresser, and a single locker which lay off to the far corner of the room.<p>

The other area was a simple bathroom, a toilet, shower, and sink all included. There was a metallic whisk as the shower curtain slid aside. Ulysses stepped out, pulled a towel from a hook in the wall, and began to dry himself, eventually wrapping the white cotton around his waist. His hair was cut short once again, the coarse black strands hanging just above his eyebrows.

He preferred it that way. Despite appearing quite reserved, even distant at times, Ulysses took pride in his appearance, perhaps more so than the majority of individuals he knew. He shook his head to clear the thought and went to dressing himself, pulling on a simple pair of black khakis and a plain teeshirt.

The cot squeaked quietly as Ulysses took a seat, running his hands over his face. He had been visited by nightmares the past two nights. Dreams of fire, screams, grasping hands, and a child grasping her tiny, shrunken face. He let his mind wander back to his childhood. His eyes flashed as he saw the image of Roger Sursy. So the bully was back, pushing at Ulysses, knocking his notes from the desk.

Then the picture twisted. Roger was clawing at his own face, blood streaming from his hands and tears from his eyes. A bright orange pencil stuck out from his tanned cheek and suddenly the memory was gone as if sucked away by a powerful wind. Ulysses shuddered and let out a sigh. He stood up suddenly, as if hoping to put his personal horrors behind him, at least for the moment.

Crossing over to the bedside table, Ulysses started up a small CD player, letting the disk within spin with a soft whir. Classical music began to play and the string section could be heard, soon followed by the light beating of a drum. Ulysses tossed himself onto the bed and let his hair sprawl out wildly, eyes bleary. He felt sick and, feeling the dull ache of guilt, Ulysses let out a choked whisper.

"Will God ever forgive me for what i've done?"

Whatever answer Ulysses was searching for in the stained walls remained hidden and he slammed an angry fist against cot, tears welling up in his eyes. What was the point of it all? How many dreams and memories had he wiped away with jealously in his heart? What kind of man was he? He knew as well as any other.

"You are a monster."

"A freak."

"An anomaly of human nature."

A cold sweat broke out and Ulysses clutched his stomach. He was going to be sick. So very, very sick. And soon he was, clutching the toilet seat, vomiting his last meal. It felt like forever and still the heaves came, the choking sound which he knew so well. Time spun into meaninglessness. Colors mixed with images, perforated faces, screaming babies.

The walls swirled and coughed blood and Ulysses stumbled around the abyss like a drunken dancer. The floor embraced him as he collapsed, cello screaming from the heavens. Tears flowing from his eyes, Ulysses felt the world's loathing and the universe collapsed around him. Gasping, he stumbled towards the locker which stood like an unmoving sentry.

It laughed at him, grille grinning like a mad clown. The door opened with a spray of blood and organs, Ulysses feeling the warm, putrid internals immediately. He grasped inside the space, ripping through long, slimy coils of intestines and still the locker grinned. And suddenly there was a the cold, reassuring feel of metal. Ulysses seized blindly at the object, the entire world collapsing around him, and still the cello screamed.

And then the pistol was in his hands. Ulysses let out a choked sob and shoved it against his skull, face distorting into a determined grimace.

*click*

Nothing. The cello died away and the walls returned to being as bland as ever. Ulysses was seated on the floor, G17 held tightly to his temple. He let out a breath of disbelief. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pistol made its way down from his head until he was holding it in his lap. He pulled the slide back, watching as a bullet was ejected, landing on the floor.

Ulysses felt at the smooth bullet. He could see the small dimple on the primer, the dent made by the firing pin. It should have fired. It should have sent it through his skull. He let his pistol fall to the ground and he wiped the sweat from his face. He was drenched, both in sweat and tears. It wasn't to be unexpected though. He should have died right there, on that cold, cold tile.

Stumbling back to his feet, Ulysses clutched the bullet tightly and fell onto the cot limply, looking even more pale than usual. He reached over gently and slid the bullet onto his table, accidentally bumping the 'PLAY' button on the CD player and the sounds of a distant, yet beautiful cello reached the ears of a breaking man once again

Sleep began to slip over Ulysses and his breathing slowed, finding a strange solace in the sound of faraway music. Oh, how he loved that cello.


	13. Chapter 13

**Redeem, Revive, Revolt**

**By Lucius Seneca and Stillmatic**

**Chapter Twelve: Among Arnold's**

* * *

><p>Pyrite looked over her equipment. She had too much of it, that was sure, but she was in the midst of thinning out the bulky collection. Casting aside the foldable spade and tent, the unicorn briefly considered keeping a small icepick, but soon that too was in the rejected pile. The pack had remained, of course, and the miscellaneous items within; notepads, quills, ink, pencils, binoculars.<p>

There was little she would need and the provisions were on their way right now. Pyrite let out an excited breath. She would be journeying into some of the deepest parts of the facility, discovering more technological treasures. She briefly wondered if any dangers awaited her, but she cast the thought aside. Danger was a part of her job and she had grown accustomed to the possibility of death.

Pyrite's mind drifted back to her family in Canterlot. She hadn't seen them in several months and was starting to miss them terribly, but she couldn't go back, no, not yet. She needed to find that one thing which would bring her fame. Her lips curled slightly in anger. If only Ulysses and Westin had gone with her to Canterlot, things would have been much easier. She would be signing her own book or doing public speaking right now, but they had taken the hard route.

There was a head shake from the archeologist as she returned to her current business. Her gear sorted and list complete, Pyrite was content to relax for the moment, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. She flung herself down on the couch and began to whistle, ignoring the refurbished break room which had become her home for the time being.

She cracked a pale blue eye open as a tingling sensation crept up her neck. There was a sudden poof and a letter appeared in front of Pyrite's eyes. She was undoubtedly surprised and unrolled the tightly wrapped scroll. Her mother and father had mastered the art of sending letters magically, but the headstrong researcher had yet to do so. It was certainly a coincidence to be thinking about her family and receive a letter from them seconds afterwards. Pyrite smiled as her eyes began to move over the letter at hand.

"Pyrite, our beloved daughter. Your father and I don't truly know how to begin this letter, but I suppose we must address the...issues which have come up. You must know that we have always understood your need to be independent and we came to terms with your brashness long ago, but never before have we had to deal with something like this."

Pyrite's smile faded as she continued reading "You must imagine my surprise when your father and I are awoken after midnight by the royal guard, demanding that we come with them to Canterlot Prison. It wasn't long before we were told what you had done. It came as a great shock to hear that you would side with some type of creature over your own kind."

Gone was the blood from Pyrite's face. She was pale, even more so than Ulysses "Truly this is the most disappointed we have ever been. We were even informed that these...'men' had attacked several guards and robbed a store! And now you have vanished into the wilderness with them. Whatever has driven you to keeping such company remains hidden from us, and we are worried sick. Pyrite, you have been labelled a traitor to Equestria."

And then the world seemed to stop. Pyrite let the emotions flow into her like an unstoppable tide. The anger, frustration, hate, and the guilt. Those three words "...traitor to Equestria." seemed to have dissolved Pyrite's usual visage and she bit hard on her lip, fighting tears as she tried to finish the letter.

"You have been sentenced to death should you ever be found. Pyrite, you must never come to see us, you must stay away from any family members. We will never ask your reasons for this, but please, as much as it breaks our hearts, you must never return to Canterlot again. We love you."

And then it was over and Pyrite felt herself break. She nearly screamed, tears now flowing freely from her eyes. What had she done? How could she have been so childish? So foolish? Her entire life would now be spent as a wanted criminal, hunted by the law until she was dead. What kind of life was that for her, for a pony who had only wanted recognition?

Then the rage took over. It flowed into the unicorn's every vein, every fiber, and she hurled a chair across the room, sending a coffee machine tumbling to the ground in an explosion of sweetened caffeine. There was a loud, distorted yell as Pyrite kicked hard at the wall, leaving a large hole in the plaster. She turned to the couch and hurled a pillow towards the door.

There was a tiny gasp from Pyrite as Ulysses caught the projectile. In her anger, she had failed to notice the silent man enter her room, and now he stood there, watching the raging unicorn destroy her own room. A large bag hung in his right hand and Ulysses raised an eyebrow at the sight, nodding towards the couch.

"Looking for spare change, are we?"

Pyrite looked away and frantically scrubbed the tears away, attempting to fix her messy hair in the progress "What? No, I was just packing."

The words were spoken with a shaky voice and Ulysses nodded, setting the bag of provisions down on a nearby table. He pointed at the crumpled scroll nearby "Bad news?"

"Somewhat."

Ulysses set the coffee machine back on the counter "Anger is a strange thing." He looked over his shoulder as he righted the machine "Don't rely on it. A help one day, a hindrance the next."

The archeologist nodded and turned away absently playing with her gear as Ulysses spoke up again "I have your food and water here. You must be quite determined to go down there."

Pyrite stopped her shuffling at that word. Determined? Yes, yes she was. The anger subsided quickly and she allowed herself to think clearly. Determination would save this situation. All she needed to do was prove everypony wrong, all she had to do was find that one artifact, that one artifact which would cause her crimes to be overlooked. That's all it would take.

The golden unicorn looked at Ulysses "You know I am."

Ulysses shrugged and went to stand beside her, bringing the plastic bag with him "I suppose. You'll have everything you need. Three days at the most. Any longer and i'll assume the worst."

There was a nod from Pyrite and Ulysses set something down in front of her "But to avoid that, have this."

A pistol now sat on the countertop. Pyrite looked at it in surprise as Ulysses continued on "It's a Glock, model 17. Accurate and high powered it should kill anyone...anything that causes you problems." The man inserted a magazine into the weapon and pulled the slide back "It's ready to fire. The safety is there, flick that on and it won't fire, take it off and thats another story."

Ulysses looked at Pyrite "There's more ammo in the bag, but Pyrite..." there was a pause "If you know you won't be able to get out, save a bullet."

Pyrite looked at Ulysses "Why? For who?"

"Yourself."

Silence followed the statement and the unicorn nodded in frightful understanding. Ulysses looked away for a moment before speaking once again "Of course, you can't be going alone, i'll be sending someone with you."

"But-"

She was cut off "No buts. I figured you'd be more comfortable with one of your own kind, so I arranged for a...friend to accompany you." Ulysses looked towards the door "Alec!"

A stallion walked through the doorway and Pyrite's eyes widened in reaction. She had heared that there was a new pony around, but she hadn't imagined he would look like that. Alec seemed uncomfortable, but less so than he should have been. In order to hide his new body, the stallion had wrapped his torso and leg in torn cloth, but the fabric did little to hide the metal prothesis and the claws which had been melded into his hoof clicked on the tile floor.

Ulysses introduced the stallion despite calling his name only a second ago "This is Alec. He'll be accompanying you. A bodyguard, if you will."

Pyrite nodded and swallowed visibly. Alec shifted slightly, revealing the Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun which hung by his side. A bandolier of shotgun shells also wrapped around his chest, but the mutated unicorn didn't seemed bothered by it. Ulysses waved the two equestrians towards the door, passing Pyrite her things as he did so.

Soon the trio was walking down the hall and straight towards the cargo lift which was still opened. Diamond Dogs were currently working on the next few floors, but no one had yet to visit the lower ones, and for good reason. Without constant electricity, those levels were blacker than the darkest cave and getting lost meant a slow death.

Ulysses stopped and watched as the two entered the lift. The human hit a button on the side of the door "Good luck. Remember, three days."

And then the doors shut, sending Pyrite into the depths of the unknown.

* * *

><p>The blackness was inky, thick, and utterly disorienting. Since the arrival of Ezekiel and his rampage, the power surges had ceased for the most part, although the occasional flickering of lights suggested the issue was yet to be completely resolved. The elevator ride down had been awkward to say the least and it was obvious that Alec preferred to remain silent around strangers, perhaps shyer than most.<p>

Pyrite still couldn't seem to accept the appearance of the young stallion. It looked so uncomfortable, even painfully so, but Alec had yet to speak, leaving the metal prothesis a mystery for the time being. The pair watched as the doors slid apart and the reluctance to leave hit them like a freight train. The elevator light was the only source of illumination they could see, but Alec removed a headlight from his satchel and promptly put it on, allowing high quality LEDs to light up the immediate hallway.

Moving to step forward, Pyrite found a hoof blocking her. Alec shook his head and gripped his shotgun with telekinesis before entering the murky abyss in front of him. Pyrite was shocked at the color of his magic. It was a dark, throbbing red which made the archeologist want to distance herself. Blue light flickered on the edges of Alec's horn, suggesting that his magic had not always been so sinister.

The soldier turned anomaly looked back at Pyrite "It looks alright. Where to?"

His voice was surprising normal, all things considered and it reminded Pyrite of a rough yet kind personality, something which she had, to some degree at least. The golden unicorn cleared her throat "I really don't know. Anywhere really."

Alec shrugged and motioned for her to take out her own headlamp. Soon two beams of white light pierced through the darkness, bobbing as their foundations moved along the remains of a hallway. It was silently decided that the two would simply walk until something caught Pyrite's fancy. Catwalks squeaked underhoof and Alec, still holding his shotgun with red light, pumped it absentmindedly, thoughts drifting back to the past week.

* * *

><p>The room was bleak. White walls, no furniture, no windows, and a single, metal door. Alec stood inside, still feeling the effects from his surgery. He had healed unbelievably fast, furthering his already good reputation with Ulysses. The very thought of the man's name made the soldier quiver with hate. The man had nearly killed him and now he was a freak of nature, never to be accepted by his peers again.<p>

The door swung upon unexpectedly and the subject of Alec's hate stepped inside. Ulysses looked at the equestrian in front of him, taking in the prothesis, the livid look in his face, the glow around his horn. It was obvious that Alec was attempting to grab Ulysses, but it simply wasn't working.

The man snorted with cruel humor "Your efforts are fruitless. Please, don't bother with it."

It didn't take much to make Alec snap and that was apparent enough as he charged at Ulysses. The pale murderer simply stepped aside and administered a hard kick, sending the enraged stallion into the door, slamming it shut. Alec was up again, a testament to his resilience and endurance, but he was no match for Ulysses, and as he threw himself at the man once more, he felt a fist connect with the side of his head.

Alec stumbled sideways and looked over in time to catch a backhand from Ulysses. Lights flashed and the rebellious soldier toppled sideways, surprised and stunned at the power of the blow. Ulysses glanced at his own bruised knuckles before addressing Alec in an offhand manner.

"You are strong, Alec, but your superiors failed to realize that, didn't they?"

There was a cough "That's not my name."

Ulysses laughed coldly "Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't. Surely you must see that you have a better future here than with your own race."

"My race cares about me."

"Do they? Obviously they cared enough about you to send you into certain death. You could have joined the rest of them."

Alec snapped at that. Ulysses was already one step ahead, grabbing the stallion as he charged once more. Soon Alec was flush against the floor, knife at his throat. Ulysses slammed the equestrian's head against the tile.

"Let go of your fear!"

* * *

><p>Pyrite was looking at Alec, staring at him with wide eyes "Hey, hey! Did you hear that?"<p>

Alec shook his head, freed from the memory "Hear what?"

The archeologist pointed down the hall "There's something down there."

There was a quick flickering of shadows and a faint skittering noise. Alec nodded slowly and led the way, going deeper into a manmade hell.


End file.
